Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum
by Mister Cynical
Summary: All they wanted was a normal school year and now they're willing to fight for it. An alternative take on the Trio's fourth year.
1. Chapter 1

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter One:

Harry Potter leaned back in his seat and stared out the window of his compartment on the Hogwarts Expressed. It had been a good summer. No, it had been a wonderful summer. Possibly, the most wonderful summer. "Something wrong Harry?" Ron Weasley asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Harry replied. His best male friend looked unconvinced as the door slid open.

"Hey. . .what's wrong Harry?" Hermione Granger asked.

"Nothing. . ."

"He won't say," Ron interrupted.

"He won't?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing's wrong," Harry insisted.

"What do you think's wrong?" Hermione asked.

"Don't you ignore me," Harry growled.

"I don't know," Ron replied, easily ignoring Harry. They both turned to Harry and he realized that nothing short of the truth would placate them.

"I was thinking about the summer," he admitted.

"You're worried about the Death Eaters?" Hermione asked.

"No."

"So, you're worried about the Dark Mark," Ron said, nodding sagely.

"No!" Harry insisted. "I'm just thinking about the fact that this was the greatest summer I've ever had." He tried to arrange his thoughts into something vaguely understandable. "I was just wondering, what a normal school year would be like."

"Oh, come now Harry!" Hermione replied. "You can have a normal school year this year." She turned to their redheaded friend. "Right Ron?"

"Uh. . .sure," the youngest male Weasley replied unconvincingly. "After all, you can't know that it won't be a normal year until something happens."

"That's less than helpful," Hermione stated, glaring at the boy.

"Maybe, but it's much more likely," Ron replied.

"Thanks," Harry stated, touched by the boy's honesty. "I just want one normal year at Hogwarts. Just one year where bad grades are more troubling than threats against my life."

"I suppose that's understandable," Hermione allowed thoughtfully. "Nothing is more important than grades." Ron and Harry shared a look.

"What do you think it'll be this year?" the redhead asked.

"I don't know," Harry admitted.

"Maybe the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher again," Ron suggested with a laugh that sounded rather forced.

"Honestly Ron, the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher doesn't always try to kill Harry!" Hermione exclaimed.

"I suppose that's true," Harry admitted.

"My God, you've still got a crush on Lockhart," Ron added. "He tried to destroy our memories for Merlin's sake." Hermione blushed scarlet and sank back into her corner muttering about how Lockhart had had marvelous teeth. "Anyway, first year it was Quirrell, but you burned him to death with your hands and I don't think there's any coming back from that."

"Second year was. . ." Hermione trailed off and they all looked at each other.

"The Chamber of Secrets," Harry stated.

"The professors must have checked it out, right?" Ron asked.

"Are any of the professors parsletongues?" Harry pressed.

"I don't think so," Hermione stated, "though, that's not really something that witches and wizards advertise nowadays. Well, at least, not after the last few dark lords." That was when the door to their compartment slid open to reveal three of their classmates.

"Potter," Draco Malfoy stated.

"Malfoy," Harry replied. "Sorry, we're a little busy right now and we already had our usual conversation at the World Cup, so. . .Ron?"

"My pleasure, mate," the boy stated as he slid the door shut with his foot. It only took a moment for the blonde to slam the door back open.

"How dare. . ."

"Honestly Malfoy," Hermione interrupted, "you'd think a pure blood would be more polite. Ron?" The redhead shut the door again and Hermione placed a locking charm on it. "Anyway, would it make you feel better if we checked the Chamber of Secrets again?"

"Yeah," Harry admitted, ignoring the sounds of Malfoy's two manservants trying to pull the door open. "Although, I'm not going down there without Fawkes and the Sword of Gryffindor at my side."

"The feast would be your best bet to get them both," Ron commented. "That's the only time we can guarantee that Dumbledore will be away from his office."

"Ron's right," Hermione commented. "Oh for Pete's sake!" She unlocked the door and it flew open causing Crabbe and Goyle to stumble to the ground. "You know Malfoy, if you were a real pure blood, you'd wouldn't have so much trouble with a simple locking charm." She slid the door shut on Malfoy's shocked face and locked it again.

"You know, that's not a simple locking charm," Ron commented.

"Of course not," Hermione replied, "but it wouldn't have been so insulting if I hadn't said that."

"Girls are mean," Harry said.

"Too right mate," Ron replied.

"I may have taken some offense to what Malfoy said at the world cup," Hermione admitted.

"So, we get to the castle and slip away. We can grab the bird and the sword and head to the chamber with a minimum of hassle, sound good?"

"Sounds like a plan," Harry replied.

(:ii:)

Harry stared at the gargoyle guarding the headmaster's office. "So much for a minimum of hassle," Ron commented

"Uh. . .lemon drop?" Harry ventured. The gargoyle didn't budge. He glanced at his friends.

"Celery?" Hermione ventured, earning herself incredulous stares from both her friends. "My parents are dentists!"

"Chocolate frogs?" Ron supplied. The gargoyle remained unmoved.

"Cockroach clusters?" Harry suggested in desperation. The stone creature immediately stepped aside. "Really?"

"Huh," Hermione grunted.

"Why's that weird?" Ron asked. "They're pretty good."

"They're real?" Harry asked.

"Of course!" Ron stated. "Why would you mention them if they weren't real?" Harry and Hermione glanced at each other.

"Never mind." Harry turned and walked into the office beyond.

"Students in the headmaster's office!" one of the portrait's shrieked.

"We're just here to borrow some things," Harry said. He glanced at the crimson bird perched in the office. "Hey Fawkes. We're checking out the Chamber of Secrets. Want to come with us?" The bird trilled shrilly and flapped over to land of Harry's shoulder. "Thanks."

"Here's the sword Harry," Ron reported. Harry glanced over and saw the rather ornate sword sitting on a presentation stand.

"Good." Harry hefted the sword and smiled at the somewhat familiar weight.

"Did you say Chamber of Secrets?" one of the portraits demanded.

"Yes sir," Harry replied. "We just want to check it out again and make sure there's not another basilisk down there."

"Ah!" the painted man replied. "In that case, the frog and sheathe are over there."

"Frog?" Harry asked blankly, glancing at his friends. Both of them just shrugged.

"I told you that you should never have stopped teaching the proper wearing of a sword Mary," the painting grumbled.

"The simple fact that you had a class for the wearing of a sword, but not a class for the using of one makes it pretty obvious how ridiculous the whole thing was!" Harry glanced back at his friend and nodded. They nodded back and the whole group slipped away as the portraits all began arguing.

(:ii:)

"Here we are," Harry stated as he stared at the door before him.

"Here you are," a strange voice agreed, causing all three of them to jump and turn. "Hello!"

"Who are you?" Harry demanded, regarding the strange blonde haired girl.

"That's Loony Lovegood, mate," Ron whispered. "She's a Ravenclaw. Ginny had a class or two with her."

"Be nice Ron," Hermione ordered before turning on the girl. "What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?" the girl replied dreamily, staring at something just over Hermione's left shoulder. "I'm here because this is the easiest time to sneak around."

"Why would you need to sneak around?" Ron demanded suspiciously.

"I need to sneak around because I'm writing an investigative piece about the dark dealings going on at Hogwarts!" the girl stated. "Your turn. What are you doing here?"

"We're making sure that there isn't another basilisk in the Chamber of Secrets," Harry answered.

"Basilisk?" the girl asked. "I love basilisks! Father and I tracked one of them in the Amazon."

"Really?" Harry asked in shock. "Why?"

"It was terrorizing a village," the girl stated. "Father decided that the only way to protect the villagers was to destroy it."

"So your father took you along to hunt down a basilisk?" Harry asked in disbelief.

"Loony Lovegoods mate," Ron corrected lowly. Harry glanced at the boy, who just shrugged. "She's got the experience. Never hurts to have another set of eyes."

"She's two years older than when you two rescued me from that troll," Hermione supplied, "and a year older than the last time you fought a basilisk."

"Fair enough," Harry allowed. "How would you like to join us, Miss Lovegood?"

"Luna," the girl stated happily, "and I'd love to join you. You do have a plan right?" Harry glanced at his friends and received blank looks in reply.

"Plans have never really worked out for us," he admitted.

"Well, never too late to try," Luna supplied. "Unless it is, of course."

"I. . .I can blind it," Hermione commented hesitantly.

"That works," Harry said. "If there's a basilisk, Hermione will blind it and Fawkes will take care of its eyes." The phoenix trilled happily.

"Charlie taught me a piercing spell that can bring down a dragon," Ron added. "It should be able to bring down a basilisk. I can try to wing it a few times as we run."

"Alright. Blind it, take out its eyes and distract it while we run," Harry summarized. "Sound good?" The others agreed and Harry pushed open the bathroom door.

"Hello Harry. What are you doing here?"

"Hi Myrtle," Harry replied as he made his way over to the proper sink. "We're just making sure that there isn't another basilisk."

"That sounds dangerous," the ghost commented. "You know, if you all die, you can come join me."

"We'll. . .keep that in mind," Hermione said with a forced smile. Harry gave the proper command and the sink sank down into the floor.

"Ah, parsletongue!" Luna exclaimed as she scribbled something down in a notebook she had produced. "That makes sense."

"I suppose," Harry allowed.

"Would you two stop hissing at each other?" Ron demanded. "It's creepy."

"Hissing?" Harry asked. His eyes widened and he turned back to the girl who just smiled.

"I'm also fluent in Mermish and Gobbledegook!" she chirped, "as well as half a dozen human languages!"

"Oh," Harry stated simply.

"Quite useful that is," Ron added as they gathered around the opening.

"I'll. . ."

"I'll go first," Hermione interrupted.

"But. . ."

"I need to blind the snake," she said simply as she raised her wand. "Lumos."

"She's right," Ron said.

"Fine, but I'm. . ."

"I'm next," Ron interrupted. "I want as clear a line of fire as possible."

"Then me," Harry gritted, annoyed that he couldn't come up with an argument. "Unless you're interested Luna?"

"Oh, no. I'll watch behind us," the blond said happily. Harry nodded and turned back to Hermione.

"Lead the way."

(:ii:)

The slide down into the depths of the castle was much as Harry remembered it, including the rather abrupt end. "Everyone okay?"

"That was. . .interesting," Hermione commented.

"That was fun!" Luna cheered.

"You have an odd definition of fun," Harry grunted as he tried to wipe some of the slime off his robes. He gave up in annoyance and pulled out the sheathed Sword of Gryffindor and the frog. "Now, how does this work?"

"You don't know how to wear a sword?" Luna asked.

"I guess I must have been sick the day they taught that," Harry sniped in annoyance. Maybe bringing the girl had been a mistake.

"Oh, that's a shame. Hold still." Harry did and watched curiously as the girl threaded the frog onto his belt and slid the sheathed sword into it. "There you go."

"Uh, thanks." He glanced at the other two. "Ready?" They nodded and Hermione once again took the lead. They made their way as quietly as they could through the cold slimy passage until they found the cave in that obscured most of the hallway. "Did this hole used to be bigger?"

"We used to be smaller," Ron replied n a tight voice. "I'll. . ." He trailed off as Hermione ignored him and crawled through the hole. Ron crawled through quickly as soon she was out of the way and Harry followed him. "If we find a basilisk it'll be hard to get through that hole in a hurry."

"I thought we were hunting the basilisk," Luna commented.

"No, we're investigating," Harry managed through his constricted throat. "If we actually think there's a giant murder snake here, we are going to all move quickly back to the hole and get out."

"That's no fun."

"Nope," Ron agreed. "It's nice and boring."

"And safe," Harry added. They started moving again and soon found themselves in the chamber proper.

"Oh my God," Hermione murmured. There was a bright flash of light and they all turned to see Luna holding a camera.

"Really?" Ron asked blankly. There was a hiss like a steam train about to explode and Harry didn't need to be a parsletongue to understand. There was another basilisk and it was pissed. "Hermione!"

"Cover your eyes! Apricum!" Harry raised his forearm, but even then the light nearly blinded him. There was a shrill war cry and Fawkes's near insignificant weight disappeared from his shoulder.

"My eyes!" a strange voice screamed.

"Ron. Get it!" Harry ordered as he dropped his arm. Ron raised his glowing wand and a fist sized hole appeared in a spray of blood in the giant snake's swaying torso. "Again!" Another hole appeared. "Until it stops moving!" Several more holes appeared and the basilisk toppled to the ground. The chamber was silent for five minutes before anyone dared speak.

"Do you think it's dead?" Ron asked finally.

"Looks dead," Harry stated as he drew the Sword of Gryffindor, "better make sure."

"Too right. I've got you covered." Harry hesitantly stepped up to the immobile mass and beheaded it with a single swing, the sword easily embedding itself into stone beneath the reptile. "Now I'm sure."

"Yeah," Hermione agreed. Harry quickly sat down before his legs could give out and he blew out a breath he hadn't really realized he had been holding. Ron sat next to him.

"You fought one of those two years ago to save my sister?"

"Yeah."

"Anything you ever need, just ask."

"Thanks Ron."

"The last one was a female, right?" Luna asked as another flashbulb went off.

"What?" Harry asked.

"The last one was female, right?" Luna asked.

"How can you tell?" Harry asked.

"The males have this crest," Luna explained as she pointed to the basilisk's severed head. "The last one didn't have a crest, right?"

"I can honestly say that I didn't notice whether it did or did not have a crest while it was trying to kill me," Harry stated.

"Oh." Luna studied the other dead, semi rotted basilisk. "The tail is thinner and shorter on this one. It was a female."

"Aren't snakes all tail?" Ron asked.

"So, you think Slytherin was experimenting with breeding basilisks?" Harry asked, ignoring his friend with the ease of long practice.

"Basilisks can't breed," Hermione stated. "Basilisks can only be created by hatching a chicken egg under a toad."

"That's why it would be an experiment," Harry stated. Hermione stared at him for a moment before stalking off in a huff. Ron covertly held out his hand and Harry bumped knuckles with him. He loved Hermione dearly, but shutting her down was always an experience to be celebrated. That brought them to something that Harry had been fretting about. He stood up and brushed off his legs, before giving up on further procrastination. "So, Luna."

"Yes?" Luna asked and Harry flinched. She just looked so happy.

"If you ever endanger my friends again, I'll kill you." Luna's smile dropped in a heartbeat and her eyes filled with tears.

"Really?"

"I'm sorry, but. . ." he was cut off as a pair of arms wrapped around his middle.

"My first death threat! I'm a real investigative reporter now!" Luna sobbed. "I'm so happy. Thank you Harry!"

"Don't mention it," Harry replied, awkwardly patting the blonde on the head. She released him off and ran off to take more pictures. "What just happened?"

"Loony Lovegood," Hermione stated. Ron just nodded wordlessly.

"So, let's get out of here," Harry said.

"What about the venom?" Luna asked.

"What about the venom?" Harry asked.

"Basilisk venom is one thousand galleons per fluid dram to dealers," Luna stated happily.

"What?" Ron asked blankly.

"Basilisk venom is. . ."

"How much venom does a basilisk have?" Harry interrupted.

"One thousand and eighty two fluid drams," Luna chirped, "generally anyway."

"One thousand and eighty two times one thousand is one million and eighty two thousand," Hermione stated.

"This thing is worth one million and eighty two thousand galleons?" Ron asked blankly.

"No, just the venom. I'm not sure how much basilisk skin goes for on the market," Luna replied. She produced a knife from somewhere about her person. "I say we skin it and see."

"Sounds good to me," Harry replied.

(:ii:)

Minerva McGonagall could only sigh as her three missing Gryffindors burst into the Great Hall and made a beeline for the Gryffindor table. "Just in time for breakfast." She squinted at the filthy, blood splattered group and frowned as she noticed a smaller, blond figure with a crimson bird perched on her head with them. "Isn't that one of your Filius?"

"Hm?" Filius Flitwick hummed, glancing up. "Oh, yes. That's Miss Lovegood."

"I didn't know that one of yours had gone missing as well."

"If I sounded the alarm every time Miss Lovegood wondered off, this castle would never get any rest," Filius said. "Although, if she's going to be running with your merry band of troublemakers, I'll probably have to keep a closer eye on her."

"Does this happen often?" Alastor Moody asked.

"Usually not this early," Minerva replied.

"At least they made it on the train this time," Pomona Sprout muttered, "unlike their second year. And they didn't get attacked on the train, like last year."

"Fair enough," Minerva allowed. She glanced around and noticed that the school healer had begun shoveling as much of her breakfast into her mouth as she could. "Poppy?"

"I'm going to lock the lot of them up in observation and throw away the key," Poppy Pomfrey stated thickly before drinking from her goblet and standing. "You wouldn't happen to know who their first class is with, would you?"

"Miss Lovegood would be in Care of Magical Creatures," Filius replied.

"The rest are with me," Pomona Sprout said. "I didn't plan anything too complicated today, so feel free."

"Agreed," Rubeus Hagrid said around an entire leg of lamb he had been working on.

"Excellent," Poppy said.

"And to think, I thought this was going to be boring," Alastor commented.

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's notes. Howdy. My name is Jack T. Cynical and welcome to my world. If you're one of my regulars, then welcome back.

So, another new story and another new fandom. Not gonna lie, been wanting to write something for Harry Potter for a while. This idea just kind of came up and I've been playing with it for a while. Figured, what the hell? New year, new story. What do you guys think? Please keep in mind, I'm American. Everything I learned about talking British I learned from Top Gear. I'm gonna try, but keep expectation low.

Updates for this will be relatively sparse. I'm actually in college right now, heading into my last semester and I'm basically getting ready to be in school forty-eight hours a week, so. . .yeah. I'm hoping for one a month, but no promises.

Now, I have an old tradition I do at the end of every chapter. Basically, I tell an interesting story that happened to me, usually involving booze, but not always. Now to preface this story, I'm a paramedic student. The program I'm in has us work shifts in the hospital to get experience, without having to get it on the side of the road at midnight during a blizzard. Anyway, so me and my partner have a patient come in. My partner is helping the doctors and nurses and I'm standing back writing vitals for her. The patient wakes up and as far as she can figure, there's a blue-eyed guy standing in the back of the room dressed in all black that no one else is noticing. Apparently, in her culture, that officially makes me Death. Yup. That went about as well as you can imagine. She started screamed, which scared the shit out of the residents and nurses. When her daughter explained the whole fiasco later, I got a raft of shit from my partner. She still calls me Death to annoy me sometimes.


	2. Chapter 2

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Two:

"Follow the light Mister Potter." Harry sighed and followed the glowing tip of Madame Pomfrey's wand.

"I'm fine Madame Pomfrey," he insisted.

"Since when have you ever been fine?" the school healer demanded. "It was bad enough when it was just the three of you, but now you're dragging along poor Miss Lovegood."

"Dragging her along," Ron repeated dryly. "Right."

"A second basilisk," Albus Dumbledore murmured. "Extraordinary. Is there any reason that you didn't come to me first, Harry?"

"We didn't want to waste your time," Harry stated. "We didn't think there'd be a basilisk down there, but we wanted to make sure."

"I see," Dumbledore replied as he stroked his beard. "You are aware that the safety of my students is my primary job, correct Mister Potter? In the case of a possible second basilisk, you would not have wasted my time."

"Sorry Professor." Dumbledore climbed to his feet.

"Well, this time I will insist the Ministry conduct a full investigation into the Chamber," Dumbledore stated. "I will also alert the ministry that they owe you four the bounty."

"Bounty?" Ron asked.

"Why yes," Dumbledore said, his eyes twinkling merrily. "Mister Malfoy's father announced that he would double the Ministry's standing two hundred thousand galleon bounty on basilisks after the Daily Prophet wrote about some completely unsubstantiated rumors that he was involved with the last one."

"Malfoy's dad is going to have to pay us two hundred thousand galleons?" Ron asked.

"On top of the Ministry's standing two hundred thousand galleon bounty," Dumbledore added helpfully. The head master raised his arm and Fawkes hopped over to his shoulder. "I also believe that another award for services rendered to the school is in order."

"Did I get a bounty for last time?" Harry asked.

"You were quite exhausted after your ordeal, so I simply had the ministry deposit the money in your account without any pomp and circumstance," Dumbledore stated. "I did tell you, but I wouldn't be surprised if you didn't remember."

What about the sword?" Harry asked.

"I think you should hold on to it," Dumbledore replied with a twinkle in his eyes. "You seem to have a better use for it than decoration." With that, he nodded and exited the hospital wing.

"Just because you get an award for doing stupid things doesn't mean you should keep doing them," Poppy stated sharply. Harry glanced at Ron and Hermione and they both nodded. Luna just continued watching something only she could see fly around the ceiling.

"Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes?" the older woman asked.

"You brew your own potions, right?"

"Of course," she replied. One eyebrow rose.

"So you buy potions ingredients, right?"

"Where are you going with this Mister Potter?"

"We've come across one thousand and eighty seven fluid drams of basilisk venom," Harry stated in a rush. "If you can sell it for us we'll give you ten percent."

"You were supposed to start low and eventually work up to ten percent," Hermione stated. Harry shrugged helplessly. He had never negotiated before.

"One thousand and eighty seven fluid drams," Poppy repeated. Her eye fluttered for a moment. "Three point seven milliliters to a fluid dram. That's more than four thousand milliliters of basilisk venom."

"You use metric?" Hermione asked in shock.

"Most non traditionalists do," Poppy replied. "It makes scaling recipes much easier." She studied all four of them. "Eight percent and one milliliter of venom for my own use."

"Deal," Harry stated. Behind the nurse, Hermione rested her face in her hands. "Uh, what would you use basilisk venom for?"

"The best medicines contain the worst poisons," the healer stated simply. She took four bottles from a cabinet and set them down. "Pepper up potions. These will help you get through the day, but you will need to sleep tonight. Side effects may include anxiety, paranoia, priapism and upset stomach. These effects may last up to two days. Now, you have just enough time to make it to your next classes."

(:ii:)

Harry strolled towards Hagrid's shack with a song in his heart and a bounce in his step. "Harry!" the massive man boomed as he saw the threesome.

"Hello Hagrid," Harry returned happily.

"Where the hell did the three of you disappear to?" Hagrid demanded as he strode away from the group of third year students.

"We found another basilisk," Harry stated.

"Another?" Hagrid asked in shock. "You didn't kill it, did you?"

"Sorry Hagrid," Harry replied.

"S'fine I suppose," Hagrid commented sadly. "Basilisks are dangerous after all."

"Like dragons?" Ron ventured.

"Ah, dragon's aren't dangerous, people just don't like reptiles," Hagrid grumbled. "You three okay?"

"Excellent actually," Harry replied.

"Good," Hagrid stated. "We have about fifteen minutes until the next class. You three can wait in my shack if you want. There should be some tea in the kettle and biscuits on the table."

"Thanks Hagrid." Harry led the way into the giant man's house and flopped down on the couch. "Lucky you brought our school robes, Hermione."

"Yeah," Ron agreed as he picked up one of Hagrid's biscuits. He gave it a few whacks on the table before sighing in annoyance and sitting next to Harry. Fang made his appearance and rested his massive head in the redhead's lap. "Wish we could have had time for a bath though."

"I know. Cleaning charms just aren't the same." Hermione waved her wand to heat the kettle. "Tea?"

"Sure," Harry said. The redhead next to him didn't say anything as he absently scratched Fang's head. "Ron?" He followed other boy's line of sight and frowned as he saw that Ron was staring at the map above Hagrid's fireplace. "Ron?"

"What?" the boy asked, jumping slightly.

"Tea?" Hermione repeated.

"Please."

"You okay?" Harry asked.

"Just thought of something," Ron replied. "I need to look into it."

"Okay." Harry sipped his tea and ran his fingers though his hair, only to freeze as he came away with something red and gummy between his fingers. "I'm going to go dump of bucket of water on my head."

"Sounds good to me," Ron said as he stood up. They made their way to the small well outside and quickly drew up two buckets worth of water. "Four hundred thousand galleons. I didn't know heroing paid so much."

"Normally it just pays in nightmares," Harry stated as he stripped to the waist and dumped the bucket over his head, enjoying the cold water and warm fall air. "You know that."

"I do," Ron agreed as he similarly stripped and dumped a second bucket over his own head.

"Of course you do. You were there for most of them."

"Can you envision Malfoy's face when his dad hands over a bag of galleons?"

"Almost makes it all worth it, doesn't it?" Harry asked.

"Yeah."

"Potter!" Harry turned.

"Speak of the devil," Ron commented.

"What's wrong Weasley?" Malfoy demanded as he crashed to a halt, "couldn't afford a shirt this year?" Ron turned red for a moment before his eyes lost focus and he began grinning at the horizon.

"Oh, don't worry Malfoy, thanks to your family, I will always have a new shirt."

"What? What do you mean?" With no answer coming forth, Malfoy turned to Harry. "What does he mean?"

"Oh, don't worry about it," Harry replied dismissively. "You'll find out sooner out later." Malfoy stared at both of them.

"And where is your little. . ."

"Right behind you," Hermione stated. "Coincidentally, that's a very bad place for a person to be if you're about to insult them." She strode around the shocked boy and his two bookends.

"Harry!" Harry looked up and saw the rest of the Gryffindor fourth years making their way over. "Where the hell did you three disappear to last night?" Dean Thomas demanded.

"We had something to take care of," Harry stated.

"You know, that's the same thing you said before Madame Pomfrey swept in and dragged you away from breakfast," Seamus Finnigan stated.

"Still true," Ron said. Seamus turned and regarded Malfoy and his idiots with a look of disdain.

"They bothering you Harry?"

"Ah, save it for the quidditch pitch," Harry stated. He frowned as all present went silent. "What?"

"There's not going to be any quidditch this year," Dean stated. "They announced it last night." Harry stomach dropped.

"No quidditch? Why?"

"We're hosting the TriWizard Tournament!" Dean stated excitedly. Harry turned to Hermione.

"The TriWizard Tournament is a competition between the traditional three largest wizarding schools in Europe: Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons," Hermione stated robotically. "The last trial was in 1792 when a cockatrice escaped the enclosure where the students were supposed to fight it and attacked the gathered headmasters."

"It's dangerous then?" Harry asked.

"Typical casualty rates among students were in the one hundred and twenty-percent range with a fatality rate of about twenty-five percent."

"So this is a competition that pretty regularly killed students and they only stopped it when the headmasters were endangered?" Harry translated.

"Pretty much."

"You know," Dean began, "when you put it that way, it doesn't really seem like it's worth the ten thousand galleon prize."

"Would you let someone kill you for ten thousand galleons?" Harry demanded.

"No."

"Well, then it's absolutely not worth it," Harry stated. "Look, as one of the few people here to regularly get stuck risking their lives, it isn't fun. Leave this tournament for the idiots." The gathered students all fell silent as they considered Harry's words.

"What are ya'll doing standing around there!" Hagrid boomed. "Class is starting."

(:ii:)

"Do you think I got through to them?" Harry asked.

"Maybe a few," Ron admitted.

"You did all that you could," Hermione stated.

"I hope it's enough." He glanced at Hagrid and felt a nervous flutter in his stomach. The giant man looked a little too happy. "So, what are we doing Hagrid?"

"I have something special planned this year!" Hagrid boomed as he waved towards a pile of crates. "Have a look!" Harry made his way over and stared at the writhing masses inside one of the crates.

"What are those?"

"They're Blast-Ended Screwts!" Hagrid announced. "You're going to raise them and document their behavior." Harry glanced at Hermione, but she just shrugged. Harry glanced back at the screwts. As he watched a burst of sparks came from one of them and it lurched across the crate.

"You don't think these are going to try to kill Harry, do you?" Ron asked.

"Ron. . ." Hermione began warningly.

"Hagrid?" Lavender asked. "What are those pointy things?"

"Oh, those are stings!" Hagrid stated happily. "Only about half have them. I think they're the males. We'll have to figure out how to milk them to test the toxicity. The others have this sucker thing on them. I think they might drink blood, but we're going to try a little of everything until we figure it out."

"Hagrid, how big do these. . .screwts get?" Hermione ventured.

"Don't know!" Hagrid said cheerfully. "We'll all find out together."

"Ok, yeah. These things are probably going to try to kill Harry." Harry's heart sank. And he had been feeling so good about this year.

"God damn it."

"Now gather round!" Hagrid cheered. "Reach right in and grab 'em!"

"So," Ron began. "This isn't going to be easy, huh?"

"Nope," Harry grunted. "This is going to break Hagrid's heart."

(:ii:)

Harry plopped down at the table and stared at the bandages on his hand. Ten attempts to "accidentally" kill their new pet and they hadn't even gotten close. "Hello!"

"Hey Luna." The blond plopped down across the table next to Hermione. "Have you ever heard of a Blast-Ended Screwt?"

"Nope!" she chirped.

"Yeah, neither has anyone else," Ron grumbled as he dug out his book for Care of Magical Creatures. "You don't think Hagrid bred those things, do you?"

"Breeding a new magical creature would violate the Ban on Experimental Breeding," Hermione reported automatically. "However, there is paperwork that must be filed with the Ministry that would allow you to do so for research purposes. Hagrid probably. . .well. . .I don't think. . ."

"Yeah," Harry agreed with a sigh. "He is Hagrid. We're going to have to stop being so covert about this."

"If we go loud, Hagrid will know it was us," Ron pointed out. "I know I'm not close like you are, but I still like the guy and would like to avoid that at all costs."

"Why couldn't he just like something small and nice, like puppies or rattlesnakes?" Harry grumbled. "This is going to. . ." he trailed off as Minerva swept up to the table. "Hello Professor."

"Hello Mister Potter." There was something about her smile that did not sit right with Harry. "Miss Lovegood?"

"Professor, there are not actual school rules stating that. . ."

"She's with us," Harry interrupted Hermione.

"Means she's with us Professor!" George called. Fred nodded. So did Angelina, Alicia and Katie.

"I see and you are quite correct Miss Granger," Minerva stated. "I was merely surprised. Anyway, I have good news."

"This isn't about an award, is it?" Harry asked.

"Actually, it is," Minerva stated. "I've found a way to make sure you three don't try to get another one. You all have detention for the next month, from right after dinner to right before curfew. Isn't that great?"

"Wonderful," Harry replied blankly.

"What about me Professor?" Luna asked hopefully.

"Miss Lovegood, I have chosen to believe that you are an impressionable younger student lead astray by. . ." Minerva trailed off as Luna pulled out her wand and pointed it at Snape. The man's shoelaces gracefully untied themselves and knotted together. With one step, he went face first into a large meat pie on the Ravenclaw's table. ". . .detention it is." Snape leapt up and saw them staring at him.

"Potter!"

"That bit of accidental magic was Miss Lovegood actually, Severus," Minerva stated. "Don't worry, I've already given her a month of detention for it." Snape actually looked shocked.

"A whole month?"

"Would you prefer a lighter sentence?"

"No, it's good to see you finally cracking down on the rampant foolishness around here." With that he untied his shoes and swished away with as much dignity as a man covered in meat pie could.

"So, I will see all of you tonight after dinner," Minerva stated before walking away.

"Bye Professor!" Luna called after her. Harry stared at the small blond. "Is there something on my face?"

"Nope," Harry stated as he smiled and patted the girl's hand.

"Bloody brilliant!" Ron finally exploded. That set off Hermione and Harry and they both began laughing hysterically.

(:ii:)

"I like that girl," Harry stated.

"She may be the perfect human," Ron agreed as they climbed to stairs to the divination tower. "Did you hear anything about the new Defense professor?"

"Not yet," Harry stated. "Hopefully we'll get something at dinner."

"Yeah." They strolled into the room and made their way through the smoke. "Think the crazy old bat will tell you that you're going to die again?"

"Well, if she says it every year, she'll eventually be right," Harry said. Ron grunted his agreement and they collapsed into a pair of over-stuffed seats.

"Betcha a knut it's the first thing she says to you."

"I'll take it," Harry replied. "I think she'll wait until we start doing something before she predicts it." A pair of curtains swept aside and Sybill Trelawney dramatically swept into the room. She paused as her eyes swept over Harry through the massive lenses of her glasses.

"Oh you poor boy." Harry sighed and rooted around in his pocket for a knut before placing it on the table. "What?"

"Nothing Professor, please continue."

"As I was saying, the thing you dread will indeed come to pass." Harry's hand dropped on the knut as Ron reached for it.

"Anything else you'd like to say about Harry's future, Professor?" Ron demanded eagerly, eying the bronze coin.

"Uh. . .no. Anyway. . ." Harry tuned her out and pocketed his knut.

"Miserable old bat," Ron grumbled, though he looked somewhat preoccupied. "The thing you dread?"

"The screwts?" Harry ventured.

"Could be. Could be she's still nuts though."

"Could still be nuts or probably is still nuts?"

"Yes."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's notes. Well, I've managed to keep my schedule for at least one extra chapter. Happy to see so many return readers, kind of sad to not see so many first timers, at least, not in the comments. Hey, if you're a first time reader, represent. Tell me what you think. My old readers already know what to expect, that's pretty much why they're here. They already like me and have accepter my nonsense warts and all. I am hoping to go a little less whacky with this story, well, maybe not. Hard to say this early. I mean, my personal favorite form of comedy is people acting normal in whacky situations, not people acting whacky in normal situation. Probably why I don't much like Will Ferrell movies. Leslie Nielsen being deadpan as the world goes mad, funny. Will Ferrell sitting at a dinner table and suddenly screaming for no reason, not funny. At least, not to me. If that makes you laugh, hey, more power to you.

So, stories. I got one that makes me look like a total ass. So, situation normal. We had a lady of a darker persuasion come in to the hospital with some stroke symptoms. I'm trying to question her as I'm doing the patient interview, but she's not really responding to me. One of the doctors tries something in Spanish, so I go full steam ahead and tell my partner to question her. As he's doing this in Spanish, one of the paramedics that brought the woman in walks in. He takes in what's happening and calmly informs us: "She's not that kind of brown." We all go silent and look at each other for a second, which in emergency medicine is a long fucking time for nobody to be doing anything. Finally one of the doctors just grins. "Anybody know Hindi?" It was at that part that everyone looked down and went back to work, which is the equivalent of everybody laughing hysterically. The emergency room is a different place, but not that different, and yes, we are pretty much all fucked up in there. You don't deal with dead toddlers by taking everything seriously.

Also couldn't help but throw in a little medical humor. See if you can catch it.


	3. Chapter 3

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Three:

"So, how was Divination?" Hermione asked as she met her friends at the dinner table. "Did Trelawney predict Harry's death?"

"No," Ron grumbled.

"Gee Ron, try not to sound too disappointed."

"I had a knut riding on it," Ron stated. "Hey Luna."

"Hello!" the blond chirped. "I have the pre-copy of tomorrow's Quibbler!"

"Tomorrow's what now?" Harry asked.

"The paper my father writes!" Harry stared down at the newspaper that had been shoved under his nose. The first page picture showed himself, Ron and Hermione gawking at the photographer and scratching their heads as something vaguely snake-like moved in the shadows behind them.

"Hogwarts Hero Trio Tackles the Chamber of Secrets," he mumbled aloud as he read the headline. "What do you mean Hero Trio?"

"You, Ron and Hermione!" Luna stated.

"But, you were there," Ron stated, catching Harry's train of thought. "Shouldn't it be Hero Quartet?" He tapped his chin. "Hero Legion."

"Honestly Ron, don't be dramatic," Hermione stated. "Hero Quartet would be better."

"Nothing wrong with being dramatic sometimes," Ron shot back.

"But, you're the three," Luna stated.

"And now we're the four," Harry replied.

"Trust me Luna, this kind of thing makes you friends for life," Hermione added. "If it weren't for a troll, I would probably still not pay any mind to these two."

"Probably true," Ron admitted. Luna stared at them with big, surprisingly focused eyes. Then the air in Harry's lungs was squeezed out as she caught him in a rib crushing hug.

"Thanks Luna," he managed, awkwardly patting her on the head. The blond detached herself and lunged across the table to hug Ron and Hermione before jumping up.

"I'll go tell father to fix the story."

"Sweet girl," Hermione commented as they watched her run off.

"Might odd, but true," Ron replied as he took the paper from Harry and began skimming it.

"Oh good Weasley!" Malfoy announced, crashing to halt before them. "I see you've already seen the news."

"Yup, invasive jackalopes are breeding exponentially in Whales," Ron replied without looking up from the paper. "The Ministry should probably look in to that." He finally lowered the paper and looked at Hermione. "What the hell is a jackalope?" The bushy-haired girl shrugged. "Ah, Hagrid strikes again."

"Your father is in the Daily Prophet," Malfoy sneared.

"He is?"

"Ministry official Arnold Weasley was involved with a tussle with Muggle law-keepers over highly aggressive dustbins!" Malfoy read.

"Ron?"

"Don't look at me, first I've heard of it," Ron replied. "Arnold?"

"Seems he's so unimportant that they can't even be bothered to remember his name. Mister Weasley appears. . ." Malfoy trailed off as he looked up and saw Ron's face. "Stop smiling every time you see me!"

"Can't help it, mate," Ron replied. "I wanted it to be a secret, but your father is paying us a two hundred thousand Galleon bounty!"

"What?" Malfoy asked blankly.

"Isn't that great?" Ron asked. "Now what was that about dustbins?"

"It involved him rushing to help Mad Eye Moody," Malfoy stated, all the smugness now gone from his voice.

"That does sound like my dad," Ron admitted. "Helpful sort of fellow, you know?"

"What the hell is a Mad Eye Moody?" Harry asked.

"He's the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor," Hermione stated. "I heard about it in class."

"Good to know," Harry admitted, "but less than helpful. Ron?"

"Old friend of the family," Ron explained. "He was the most feared auror during You-Know-Who's last reign. He's the one that caught Malfoy's father."

"My father was exonerated on all charges due to the Imperious Curse!" Malfoy snapped.

"Yeah, Mad Eye told me the whole thing as a bedtime story once," Ron stated. "He burst into a Death Eater hideout and your dad tried to run. He tripped over his own feet and slammed his head on a table. Fortunately, that released the Imperious Curse. Unfortunately, that also caused him to soil himself when he woke up and saw Mad Eye staring down at him." Malfoy's face turned scarlet.

"Is there a problem Mister Malfoy?" Malfoy spun on his heel and came face-to-face with the school's transfiguration mistress herself.

"No problem Professor," Malfoy managed before stalking off.

"I just wanted to remind you that you will all be in the transfiguration classroom thirty minutes after your dinner," Minerva stated. "I suggest bringing something to work on and please tell Miss Lovegood when you see her."

"Yes Professor." She turned and swept away.

"So the new Defense teacher is the most terrifying auror to ever live?" Harry asked.

"Yup."

"That could be either very good or very bad," Harry stated. "He either doesn't want to kill me, or he's going to be very hard to stop."

"If it makes you feel better, Moody would rather blow himself up than do anything for the Death Eaters," Ron commented. "Also, if he wanted you dead, you'd probably already be dead."

"That does make me feel better, actually."

(:ii:)

"This is weird, right?" Harry ventured in a whisper.

"Yeah," Hermione whispered back.

"Do you think he's ill?" Minerva ventured.

"He hasn't mentioned feeling sick." They watched as Ron continued to pour over the books and map he had spread across the floor.

"Should I call Poppy?" Minerva asked.

"Uh. . .couldn't hurt." Ron looked up and frowned as he saw the three of them staring at him. Luna was leaping around the classroom trying to catch something only she could see.

"What?"

"What are you working on Mister Weasley?" Minerva ventured.

"Just some extra credit for Hagrid," Ron stated before turning back to his map and flipping open a book that was about a foot deep.

"Madame Pomfrey might be a good idea." There was a knock at the door and it creaked open to reveal the school healer.

"Did someone call?"

"Does she do that normally?" Harry asked.

"Only when she can creep us out," Minerva admitted. "Mister Weasley has been studying for an hour and a half."

"Huh, that's weird, right?" Poppy asked.

"Yeah," Hermione replied.

"Anyway, I heard that you had already snagged four students for detention," Poppy commented, happily ignoring the overly-studious student. "Mind if I borrow one? I'm doing inventory."

"I guess," Minerva allowed, glancing at the two students who weren't currently chasing their non-existent tails or studying.

"Ron?" Harry called.

"Huh?" Ron asked without looking up.

"Madame Pomfrey is doing an inventory, would you rather do that than study?" Harry asked.

"Nah, go ahead mate," Ron replied as he flipped a page and annotated something on his map. "I'm good. I really need to keep working on this."

"Well, I guess I'll help," Harry stated.

"Excellent!" Poppy announced. "This way." Harry followed the school nurse out into the hallway.

"He's going to be okay, isn't he?"

"I'm sure Mister Weasley is just fine," Poppy stated. "Maybe he's just decided to start taking his studies. . ."

"He's just decided to start taking he studies. . ." Harry supplied.

"Sorry, I just couldn't finish that sentence with a straight face."

"Yeah, that's fair. So, what do you need me to do?"

"Mostly you'll just be inventorying my potion ingredients," Poppy stated. "It'll be wonderfully boring. I dare say, you won't figure out a single way to endanger yourself while you do it."

"Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes?"

"I think you and I have a profound misunderstanding."

"How so?" Poppy asked.

"You seem to think that I keep endangering myself and my friends because I enjoy it," Harry stated. "That's a gross mischaracterization."

"Is it?"

"Absolutely, as a matter of fact, I'm working very hard this year to make sure that next year is completely quiet."

"If you don't enjoy it then why do you have to do anything this year?" Poppy asked suspiciously.

"Because I have to do something at least twice a year."

"You are aware that there are fully-grown, combat-experience witches and wizards inside this castle, are you not?" Poppy pressed.

"For some reason, they never seem to be around when everything goes wrong," Harry grumbled. "Usually, my only options are to grab my friends and go, or allow something bad to happen." Poppy gave him a sour look.

"I see."

(:ii:)

"And two hundred Mandrake roots," Harry grumbled as he wrote it down on a piece of parchment. "Why do you even have two hundred of these miserable things?"

"Fool me once, shame on me. Nobody gets to fool me again," Poppy stated plainly. "I will not be caught shorthanded by something like a basilisk again. No student in this school will be forced to endure a prolonged period of paralysis under my care again."

"Hopefully the one we took care of will be the last one," Harry grumbled.

"A full team from the Department of Mysteries has already investigated," Poppy stated. "They have located a cache of what may be basilisk eggs and removed them."

"And why didn't they do that the first time?" Harry asked.

"I refuse to participate in gossip Mister Potter," Poppy stated. "However, I will speculate that the fact that the attacks continued after the head master was forced out would have laid the responsibility on the Ministry. I believe that they would have simply enjoyed the fact that the attacks ceased and not bothered to investigate further as that would draw attention."

"Couldn't Professor Dumbledore have forced them?"

"Politics are a disgusting game of give and take with no cooperation," Poppy stated. "To force anything would be to give up something and that must be measured carefully. That is all I will say."

"I think my uncle may have had a point when he said that all politicians should he executed," Harry said in disgust, both at politics and at his uncle for being right about anything. He turned back to the cupboard and began counting troll livers.

"I also need to make sure that I am fully stocked for the TriWizard Tournament," Poppy added.

"Oh, that horrible thing."

"That horrible thing," Poppy parroted. "Mister Potter, the TriWizard Tournament is an event with a long and glorious tradition. . ."

". . .of killing students," Harry interrupted. Poppy was silent for a few seconds and he glanced back at the school healer.

"Exactly!" she exploded suddenly, making him jump. "Bringing back that miserable contest is the most ridiculous thing I can think of. Do you know how many students died for it?"

"Hermione said about twenty-five percent," Harry stated.

"Twenty-five percent!" Poppy snapped. "I don't care that they've set an age limit now. There is no excuse for putting students at risk for a school's honor."

"Imagine dying for something as stupid as someone else's honor," Harry commented.

"I know!" They were interrupted as the door burst open and a first year stumbled in dragging another first year.

"Madame Pomfrey!"

"On the bed!" Poppy ordered as she swept in. "What happened?"

"She fell down the moving stairs," the uninjured first year gasped.

"If I've told the Head Master once," Poppy grumbled. Harry made his way over and stared at the young girl's arm.

"Broken?"

"Your medical opinion Mister Potter?" Poppy asked as she waved her wand over the appendage.

"Just speaking from experience," Harry replied.

"I suppose you would. . .stop that!" Poppy snapped as the first year began to prod the suddenly pain free appendage. "I took the pain away, but it's still broken. Mister Potter, please hold this." Harry seized the young girl's wrist and elbow. "Now apply some traction."

"What?"

"Pull gently."

"Oh." He watched curiously as Madame Pompfrey's wand danced across the swollen appendage.

"That easy?"

"If by easy you mean the culmination of years of study and practice, than yes," Poppy stated and Harry flinched a bit.

"I'm sorry, I just meant that you made it look easy," he corrected himself quickly. "She doesn't need any disgusting potions? She's not going to spend the night in agonizing pain?"

"Sorry Mister Potter, it turns out that when I don't have to replace every bone below the clavicle, healing isn't that bad," Poppy sniped.

"You're Harry Potter," the injured first year gasped.

"That's right," Harry stated, forcing a smile. The girl looked away as her cheeks turned bright red. "What's wrong?"

"I can't believe I broke my arm falling down a staircase."

"A moving staircase," Harry corrected. "It happens every year."

"It does?" the girl asked.

"Of course. I fell down those stairs my first year." Harry managed another smile and went back to cataloging potion supplies. The healer moved to his side after assuring herself of her patient's health.

"Of all the things you've managed to hurt yourself with, you never fell down the moving stairs Mister Potter," Poppy commented quietly.

"Well, that wouldn't make a first year feel better, would it?" Harry countered. He finished counting troll livers. "Madame Pomfrey?"

"Yes Mister Potter?"

"How would someone learn healing magic?"

"Are you planning on being a healer?" Poppy asked.

"Well, I never really considered it before," Harry admitted, "but even if I don't, it seems like something that would be good to know."

"I see." Poppy stroked her chin for a moment. "I suppose I could speak with Minerva. If you'd be willing to be my aide during your detentions, I could teach you some of the basics? Deal?"

"Deal."

(:ii:)

Harry made his way through the portrait hole and frowned as he found Hermione, Ron and Luna gathered around one of the tables in the mostly empty common room. He made his way over and looked down at the map that they had spread out on the table. "What's happening?"

"When we were in Hagrid's shack, I noticed the map he keeps above his fireplace," Ron stated. Harry studied the map a little more thoroughly. It was of the Forbidden Forest. "I got to thinking, we forgot about something from second year." Harry's eyes fell upon a circled area of the map and the name written next to it.

"Ron, you just stopped waking up screaming at the end of last year," he stated.

"No, you just mentioned it and I began putting up silencing charms," Ron stated. Harry took a deep breath.

"Aragog."

"And all his children," Ron stated. Harry sat down.

"There must be hundreds," he stated.

"Hundreds living in a box canyon with only one way in," Ron added. "I've been trying to figure this out, but I can't think of anything the four of us could do. We'd need something that could hit all of them almost simultaneously. If we attacked and we couldn't do that, we'd be swarmed." His hands were shaking and Hermione rested a comforting hand on his shoulder. "Can you think of anything, Harry?"

"Not off the top of my head," Harry stated. He stared down at the map. He had no fear of spiders, but the memory of being chased made even his hands tremble. He folded them in front of himself. He glanced at the blond member of their group.

"Any thoughts Luna?"

"Fire cleanses all!" Luna chirped as she stared over Harry's shoulder.

"That's less than useful."

"No," Ron stated suddenly as he leaned forward, his eyes practically glowing as he studied the map. "That could work. If we could hold the opening and start a big enough fire, that could work."

"Could we get close enough?" Harry asked.

"No," Hermione stated. "Acromantulas have an excellent sense of smell. They would smell humans coming from half a mile away."

"Of course," Ron growled. "All nightmares just get worse."

"This is a solution," Harry stated firmly. "We have our end goal, we just need to figure out how to get there." The redhead leaned back in his chair.

"What about the professors?" Hermione asked. "This is different. We know that they're out there. This isn't us "just checking." This is us going out there to kill them."

"We can't let the professors know," Harry stated after a moment of contemplation. "This all comes back to Hagrid. He could get in trouble for putting them there. If everyone already knows they're there, than Hagrid finds out that we did it. I don't think I could take that."

"You're right," Ron stated. "I'm not close like you are, but I do like the guy. I wouldn't want him to know what we did." Harry sighed and climbed to his feet.

"I say we all get some sleep. We can talk about this at breakfast." He glanced at the newest member of their clique. "Can you get back to your dorm, or do you need help?"

"I have my ways!" Luna chirped.

"Fair enough."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's notes. So, hey. Should I change this section to: "author's drunken ramblings"? That just seems so much more accurate. Notes are clinical. Drunken rambling is exactly what I'm doing in these things anyway.

You know, unfortunately, I've kind of been wrapped up more in fanon than canon for a few years. While I knew that shitting on Ron was mostly a fan thing, when I reread the books for this story, it was pretty funny to note that Hermione is the one who shoves food in her face for most of the book. I kind of wonder if most fan writers even know that. I mean, I was in fifth of sixth grade when I first read the first book and that was because a teacher had said: "Hey, you like reading. You should try this new book series". I know I'm kind of an old fogey for a fanfic writer, but it's kind of funny to notice the differences between what happened and what most people seem to think happens. I think one of the more common stories is that Ron wasn't there to help with the troll in the first book and Harry, possibly with the help of someone who is probably an OC, defeats the troll. Ironically, Harry always seems to replace Ron in using a levitation charm, or uses some cool new spell the OC taught him. You know, trying to be closer to canon will probably mark me as some kind of Ron-sympathizer who ignores the books. Odd that. Sorry for not writing Ron as a food-obsessed idiot who can't do anything intelligent, but you know, fuck you. What do I care?

Alright, here's your random story of the week. So, I'm drinking in a local watering hole. Shocking, I know. Anyway, this watering hole is right by a college. What do colleges have? Lots of liberal college kids who just heard this great thing their liberal professor said and are happy to parrot it without understanding the why behind it. Please note, I don't really have any problems with people who have differing opinions that me, but if you want to start with me, you better know what you're talking about.

To be fair to this college kid. I do wear plaid, cause it's comfortable and durable. And I do have a beard, cause I'm lazy and the military made me very adverse to shaving. Anyway, he goes on an anti-gun screed. I was very willing to ignore it because Belator was on and I wanted to see whatever freak show fight they had cooked up, but then he turned to me looking for support. In the words of my drinking buddy: "Jack. Jack, no. Noooooo. Jack, don't. . .oh shit."

Now, in case you've failed to notice. I'm kind of a gun guy. The kind of gun guy who is so confident in my gun knowledge that I don't try to correct people. I'm the kind of gun guy that makes other gun guys look like assholes, which too many of them are, to be fair. I say certain things (silencer, clip) when I'm drunk just to see if I can get into a fight with gun guys. I built my rifle, which is a story for another day.

So, this kid kind of quickly realized that he had fucked up. I had counters to every debate point he tried to bring up. And I was drunk, so I could not shut up and disengage. Your mind must be blown by that fact. Anyway, he tempts me into an hour long bang stick debate during which we attracted probably half the bar. I blame college kids being trained to unthinkingly listen to anyone who sounds like they know what they're talking about. I kind of made him look like a bit of a dumbass, which most gun owners could do, but I also kind of made him look like the asshole, which is kind of what I do.

Anyway, moral of the story: if you are anti-gun, don't try to debate gun owners. Anti-gun folks are kind of like creationists. They have a limited playbook of debate points. Gun owners have long since learned that play book and countered it. Trust me. I had to take a debate class with my chosen topic being gun control and I kind of made my opponent cry. No, I'm not proud of that. She was a very nice, very passionate lady that I made friends with and she got a C on her final debate because of me. . .and because she said: "Think of the children!"

Although, at least in a debate class, the opponent loses immediately if they wail: "Think of the children!" because that doesn't really work with logic. In real life, yes, we have a counter for that too. It's: "I am thinking of the children. I don't want my children to have less rights than I do." To be fair, I don't want children, but my niece and nephew will both learn to shoot from me if they want to when I think they're old enough.

Honestly, my personal opinion is, my nephew is probably too timid. He may shoot once to say he did it. My niece on the other hand, yeah, I think she may be a traditional American rifleman when she's older. She'll be one of the President's Hundred if she wants to.

So, yeah. Lessons learned. Don't go into a debate halfcocked, no pun intended. Especially if you're arguing something older than you are.

I will leave you with this statement that kind of sums up guns in America. If you are anti-gun, you probably don't like guns. This is logical. If you don't like guns, you probably don't understand or study guns and gun culture. This is logical. If you don't understand or study guns and gun culture, you want to write legislature affecting guns. This makes no fucking sense. This is why so many gun control politicians cry about gun owners following the letter of the law, instead of the spirit of the law.

Thus the eternal debate about guns in America.

So, have I mentioned yet that, what with the lovely weather, I've switched back to my nice weather drink of gin? Yeah, you could probably tell. That was long winded, even for me.

Anyway, with the nice weather I've been suppin the gin and drinking at a few of my preferred watering holes again. Yes. That is a whole lot of fodder for future notes.

Next week you get to hear the story of how Uncle Jack knocked out two assholes with two punches in twenty seconds with zero idea of what is going on. That is, if I remember to tell that one.

Fuck you. Love you. Drink!


	4. Chapter 4

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Four

"So, what do we have?" Harry asked as he poured himself a goblet of pumpkin juice.

"I think I have something that could start the fire," Hermione stated.

". . .but?" Ron pressed.

"We'd still have to be close enough," Hermione admitted.

"Back to that again," Harry grumbled. "There has to be a way."

"How did you approach them the first time?" Hermione pressed.

"I get the feeling Aragog wanted us to reach him, so we couldn't escape," Harry stated. He caught Ron shuddering out of the corner of his eye and patted the boy's shoulder as comfortingly as he could.

"That does make sense," Hermione admitted. "Acromantulas prize human meat. There's no way we could get close enough without them knowing and at least sending a few out to find us."

"Not if we weren't human!" Luna cheered. Harry stared at her blankly.

"Not helpful."

"No," Ron stated suddenly. "She's right. What if we weren't human? The woods are full of animals. If there were animals walking by their territory, they probably wouldn't be suspicious, right?"

"Acromantulas are nocturnal," Hermione said while nodding. "If animals just happened to walk by during the day, they probably wouldn't investigate. I think you're right, but how would we. . ." she trailed off. "Oh, right. Magic. Does anyone know how to become an animagus?"

"Something to look into," Harry stated. "How about we meet in the Room of Requirement tonight after detention? We can discuss it there without anyone listen in."

"Sounds like a plan," Ron replied. Hermione nodded. Luna continued sculpt an acromantula out of whatever breakfast foods she could reach.

(:ii:)

"What do you think they're talking about?" Minerva growled as she stared at her most troublesome students.

"It's been too long," Alastor snorted. "Don't you recognize a war council anymore?"

"I was afraid you'd say that," Minerva grumbled. A thought struck her and she turned to the largest man at the table. "Hagrid?"

"Huh?" the man grunted around the whole blood pudding he had just shoved into his mouth.

"Mister Weasley said he was working on an extra credit project for you," Minerva stated, trying to not sound too accusatory.

"Yeah. He was asking me about the wildlife in the Forbidden Forest," Hagrid stated. "I gave him a few books. He's going to give a presentation later in the year."

"That didn't strike you as odd?" Minerva demanded.

"The brother of Charlie Weasley being interested in wildlife?" Hagrid asked, one eyebrow rising. "Couldn't keep that boy out of the Forbidden Forest." Minerva's shoulder slumped. That did make sense.

"But don't you think it's a little late for him to show such interest?" She was almost pleading

"Never seemed to mind the animals before," Hagrid stated, "I just figured he's coming into his own."

"They're up to something. They have to be."

"Now you're talking sense," Alastor rasped. Minerva buried her head in her hands as she realized just how paranoid she was sounding.

(:ii:)

"So, how was your day Mister Potter?" Poppy asked. Harry frowned, somewhat startled by the sudden question.

"Uh, it was good Madame Pompfrey." The school healer stared at him shrewdly. "How was yours?"

"Quiet," she stated. "I would like to keep it that way Mister Potter."

"That sounds great," Harry said honestly before going back to counting bezoars. Poppy continued to study him. She had overhead Minerva at breakfast and decided to see what she could find out herself.

"I saw you and your friends speaking at breakfast. You seemed rather intense."

"Oh, we were just talking about our first class with Snape."

"Professor Snape," Poppy corrected absently.

"Right. Sorry."

"If you have any aspirations towards being a healer, at least make sure you listen to the man," Poppy stated. "He may be. . .difficult, but he is a master brewer."

"Yes Madame Pompfrey." They dropped back into silence and Harry went back to counting.

"How was your first potions class?" Poppy pressed.

"Neville melted another cauldron and got a detention," Harry stated. "That would have been the first of the year, except for this."

"I see." Poppy frowned as she considered the answers. "You aren't planning anything, are you Mister Potter?" Harry dropped a bezoar.

"Like what Madame Pompfrey?" he asked as he chased the rolling item.

"Like something dangerous," Poppy stated. She already had her answer.

"Why would I be planning anything dangerous?" Harry snatched up the bezoar and returned it to its place without making eye contact.

"Going off of our previous discussion, you might be planning something dangerous because you think you have to," Poppy stated shrewdly. "However, this planning you seem to be doing is rather unusual. I would like to point out that if you have time to plan, you have time to seek help."

"What do you mean planning?"

"I saw you Mister Weasley, Miss Granger and Miss Lovegood at breakfast," Poppy stated. "That wasn't a discussion about potions class. What are you planning?"

"Nothing Madame Pompfrey."

"When I can prove what you are up to, we are going to talk, Mister Potter."

(:ii:)

"You're late Harry."

"We can't speak at breakfast," Harry stated. "Madame Pompfrey saw us and now she's poking around."

"Is that why you're late?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, I didn't know if she was following me, so I had to go to the dorm and sneak out." Harry took a breath and fought the urge to glance behind himself. "Anybody have any thoughts?"

"Well, we already know two people that studied how to become an animagus," Hermione stated. "Unfortunately, Professor Lupin would probably tell the Head Master and Sirius is out of the country." The mere mention of that name sent a spike of anxiety running through Harry's body. He had forgotten all about his worries about his god father.

"Alright Harry?"

"Yeah."

"Bullshit," Ron stated flatly. "What's wrong?"

"I've been writing Sirius over the summer," Harry stated. "He said he was coming back."

"Why would he do that?" Hermione demanded.

"I've been having nightmares and my scar had been hurting over the summer," Harry confessed.

"Alright then. Why don't you set up the room?"

"Right." Harry performed the age-old ritual, though his thoughts were dominated by his godfather. He opened the door and stared at the darkness beyond. "Well, that's new."

"What is that?" Ron asked looking over Harry's shoulder. "Hermione?"

"I have no clue."

"Banzai!" Luna cheered. With a massive push all four tumbled into the darkness beyond. Or they would have had Harry not immediately run into something hard.

"Ow."

"Harry?"

"My nose." Suddenly the hard object flung open and they tumbled to the floor. Harry looked up and found himself staring down a wand at his god father. "Hey Sirius." The man stared at him blankly with his toothbrush firmly wedged in the corner of his mouth. He lowered his wand and walked out of the room. He reappeared a moment later having replaced the towel around his hips with a fluffy pink bathrobe and spit out his toothbrush.

"Harry!" Harry grinned as he was pulled to his feet and given a rib squeezing hug. "And Ron and Hermione and. . ." he trailed off. "You're Xeno's kid, aren't you?"

"Who are any of us really?" Luna asked the wall ninety-degrees to the left of the man.

"Yup. You're Xeno's kid." Sirius took a deep breath. "Now Harry, you know you're welcome wherever I am. . ."

". . .but?" Harry asked.

". . .but what the hell are you four doing in my linen closet?" Harry looked back and stared at the linen closet they had fallen out of. "More specifically, what the hell are you doing in my linen closet in my room in the Hotel de Paris in Monte Carlo?"

"Monte Carlo?" Hermione squeaked. "Monte Carlo in the French Riviera?"

"Oh, we are going to have detention till we graduate," Ron grumbled.

"Gotta admit, all the stuff we got up to in school, we never managed to make it further than Hogsmeade." The door to the room burst open and a tall woman in a long coat swung in.

"Sirius!" The man made a diving lunge and managed to keep the woman's coat together as she tried to rip it open. The woman stared down at him and looked up at the four students. She grinned brightly. "Bon jour!"

"Uh, hi," Hermione managed. The woman looked back at Sirius and let out a long string of rapid fire French.

"Did anyone catch that?" Ron asked.

"She says she was joking and we all look a little young, but as long as we're legal, she's game," Hermione stated blankly.

"Game for what?" Harry asked despite himself.

"I refuse to speculate," Hermione said firmly. Just to add to the chaotic scene a harried-looking snow-white owl crashed into the window sill.

"Oh, hey Hedwig," Harry said as cheerfully as he could. The owl stared at him with an open beak. "Okay, before you get mad, I had no idea I was going to be here when I sent you to find Sirius." The attempt at placation went nowhere and Harry was subjected to a battery of wings and nipping beak.

(:ii:)

"Thanks Sophie," Sirius stated as took the bottle of cognac and poured himself a glass.

"Pas de quoi," the woman chirped before dumping herself into the space next to him on the love seat.

"Sophie this is my godson Harry and his friends Ron, Hermione and Luna. Harry and company, this is my friend Sophie. She understands English fine, but doesn't speak a lick of it."

"You say I lick English good," Sophie commented teasingly. Sirius sipped his drink for lack of anything intelligent to say. He pushed the bottle towards the students.

"You know we're underage," Hermione stated.

"Why yes, yes you are," Sirius stated. "You're even underage in the country you illegally magically traveled to."

"Can't argue with that logic," Ron stated as he took the bottle and poured four glasses.

"So, how did you end up in my linen closet?" Sirius asked.

"We came through the Room of Requirement," Harry stated. He frowned even as he said it and glanced at Hermione. "Is that even possible?"

"Evidently," the girl replied, "even though it violates several of the fundamental principles that our understanding of magic is based on."

"Awe, you violated your first rule of magic," Sirius sniffed. "Lily would be so proud."

"My mother?" Harry asked.

"Your mother who spent way too much time developing new spells and redeveloping old legendary magic that had been lost to time," Sirius confirmed. "Sometimes lost for good reason. She could be kind of scary some times."

"Anyway, we were trying to use the Room of Requirement and Harry was apparently rather distracted," Ron said.

"I was worried about Sirius," Harry stated defensively.

"And that had something to do with this?" Sirius asked, holding up the letter from Hedwig's leg. Harry gawked at the object and checked his pockets. "You're a few decades away from being able to sneak something like this by me." He tore the letter open and perused it. "You've been having nightmares."

"It's stupid," Harry stated.

"Not necessarily," Sirius stated. "Your scar has been hurting at the same time. This could be more." He leapt to his feet. "I'm going back to England with you." A surprisingly strong hand grabbed him by the back of his robe and sat him down.

"You mean back to England where you're a wanted man?" Harry demanded.

"Oui," Sophie stated simply.

"Harry could be in danger!" Sirius stated. The French woman released her hold and cracked her knuckles. "Which I might be able to deal with from here?"

"Oui." Sophie let out a long string of French.

"What?" Harry asked. Sophie frowned and pulled out her wand.

"Is this better?" she asked.

"Much," Ron stated as he refilled his glass.

"Anyway," Sophie began, "the fact that your scar is painful at the same time that you have these nightmares points towards a correlation. The killing curse could have somehow bound you and Voldemort together."

"Is that possible?" Harry asked.

"No, but surviving the killing curse is supposed to be impossible too," Sophie said with a shrug. "We are getting into some rather esoteric realms of magic here." Sophie sipped her drink. "Lots of things are impossible until you do them." Harry sipped his own drink as he pondered that.

"So, what I'm seeing could be real," he said flatly. "Voldemort is out there somewhere killing people."

"You know what they say about old habits," Sirius replied. Harry took another sip and idly watched as Luna put a straw in her drink and began blowing bubbles.

"How do I stop it?"

"No clue," Sophie admitted cheerfully. "We don't know the specifics of this link if it even actually exists. We could try Occlumency and see if that helps."

"What's Occlumency?" Harry asked.

"It's the art of protecting your mind," Sophie explained. "It usually counters Legilimency, but we could give it a shot. I taught the basics at the academy."

"If Occlumency is protecting the mind, Legilimency is reading the mind?" Harry ventured. "People can read my mind?"

"Nothing so advanced," Sophie replied, patting his hand comfortingly. "The mind is difficult to. . .well, wrap your mind around. Basic impressions and strong feelings are usually the best you can get, but they can be enough." Harry sipped his drink as he pondered that. "Unfortunately, the process of learning can be rather unpleasant and can take time. A good stopgap might be something similar to Sirius's tattoos that he used to protect himself from the Dementors. It wouldn't help much with a direct attempt, but general passive probes would be clouded." Harry spun on his godfather.

"Your tattoos protected you from dementors?" he demanded as he stared at some of the marks visible on the man's chest through his robe. "Why didn't you tell me that?"

"Slow down Harry," Sirius ordered. "Before you rush off and get sleeves, think about the repercussions. As far as magical society is concerned, only thugs like low-level criminals and Ministry hit wizards have tattoos. You could really screw up your chances at a decent job."

"You're assuming that I'll survive long enough to have to worry about getting a job." Sirius sighed and finished his drink.

"Hermione, if you'd please."

"Way ahead of you," the bushy-haired woman stated before smacking Harry across the back of the head.

"Ow!"

"You're going to survive mate," Ron stated flatly. Harry shuffled a little awkwardly and sipped his drink as everyone stared at him.

"Yeah."

"Good!" Sirius announced. "So how has school been going?"

"Uh, good," Harry stated. "We killed another basilisk."

"Another basilisk?" Sophie demanded. "You've had to deal with any basilisks at your school?"

"And a troll and dementors and a werewolf and. . ."

"I think you've had enough," Hermione said, interrupting Ron's rambling and pushing his glass away from him. Sophie turned and stared at Sirius.

"They're joking, right?"

"I wish," Sirius grumbled. "Can't you three. . .four just stay out of trouble?"

"We're working on it," Harry stated. "By the way, we need to know how to become animagus."

"Why?" Sirius asked suspiciously. Harry shared a look with Ron and Hermione. Luna was staring at the overhead ceiling fan in delight.

"Because it would be cool?" Hermione ventured.

"Are you asking or telling?" Sirius replied.

"Please, Sirius. You're the only one who would teach us," Harry stated.

"Damn my desire to be a cool godfather."

(:ii:)

Harry carefully slid the painting in front of him forward slightly and peaked out into the hallway beyond. "We're good." Harry slid the painting the rest of the way open and stepped out of the hidden passageway. The rest trooped after him and he slid the painting back into place.

"We just went from Scotland to the French Riviera and back in one night," Hermione stated. "I must be getting used to magic, because that only seems a little odd."

"Yeah," Harry admitted as he dug out Sirius's last gift and distributed them.

"Are you sure there are no side effects from these?" Hermione asked.

"Only the ones Madame Pomfrey said," Harry replied as he downed the pepper-up potion. "Although, you really shouldn't use these on consecutive days without taking time to rest. That can be bad."

"Mister Potter!" Harry cursed as he fumbled the empty bottle.

"Hello Professor McGonagall," he managed with a smile he hoped wasn't as nervous as he felt.

"What are you four doing out here?"

"We were just heading to the library before breakfast," Hermione said quickly.

"Why would you want to go to the library?" Minerva demanded.

"To study," Harry ventured. The older woman's eyes narrowed as she contemplated that.

"And what were you planning on studying?" Minerva demanded.

"Defense against the Dark Arts," Harry stated. "We have our first class today." The professor glared at them all suspiciously.

"You're up to something."

"I. . .don't know what you mean," Harry stated. Minerva let out something rather similar to an irritated growl.

"I see. You can be on your way."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's ramble. So. Sirius. It kind of feels a little early to be bringing him in, but I really did need him as one of the only adults the Quartet could go to for tricks and intel, even if they don't give away too much to him. Plus, with how worried Harry is about him in this book, it felt like something I needed to resolve or he would, logically, be very distracted with worrying about his godfather.

So, I have to admit, I missed a few of the movies and didn't know that Sirius had tattoos in them until I started researching for this book. To me, it kind of seemed natural for an ex-con to have a few, especially if they explained how he stayed relatively sane in Azkabam.

Now, this might be a spoiler and it is subject to change, but I feel bad for Minerva. I kind of plan on her chasing her tail in paranoid circles before the year is out. Poppy will probably have a little better of a time at it, but not by much.

Alrighty then, I've gotten a few requests to tell the story I teased last update. As I said, the weather's getting nice and me and my usual drinking buddies have been venturing back out to the bars. Now, I am a born and bred Delawarean, which is usually kind of cool. This state is small and you've always got a chance of running into folks you know. I've bounced around most this state and I have a lot of friends, only most of which are veterans, bartenders and bouncers or some combination of the three. The guy I ran into that night was. . .not a buddy of mine. As a matter of fact, if I'd cared more, you could say he tried to bully me in high school. You know, if I wasn't bigger than him and running on zero fucks to give that is.

Anyway, so my buddy had just gotten up to break the seal and I feel someone poke me in the shoulder. I turned around and see this guy. Need I say I was plastered?

Jack: Hey. . .you. Long time no see.

Guy: It's Matt.

Jack: Right. Like I said, long time no see.

Guy 2: Hey Matt, who's this guy?

Matt: This is Jack. I used to pick on him in high school.

Jack: Well, you tried.

Matt: What the fuck does that mean?

Jack: Well, you tried to pick on me, but I never really cared.

Matt: I beat the shit out of you!

Jack: You punched me three times in the back of the head while I was sitting and ran away like a bitch when I stood up. You probably hurt your hand a lot worse than my head.

Matt: You fuck!

Now, I'm not a fighter. I don't like fighting. It gets in the way of other things, like drinking and having fun. I'm not a fighter, but I can throw a punch. Matt takes a swing at me and I kind of drunkenly swayed out of his way and threw the sloppiest, most telegraphed punch ever. It connected clear with the angle of his jaw and he dropped like a rock.

Guy 2: Motherfucker!

Jack: Durrrr *staring at his fist like an idiot*

And that is when the bouncer (both a veteran and a friend) snags him in a chokehold from behind.

Bouncer: That was sloppy as shit Jack.

Jack: I'm drunk!

And guy 2 decides the best course of action was to pull a knife. My friend couldn't really see it and I was running on booze and adrenaline. I grabbed his wrist and fired off another shot that somehow didn't manage to clock my buddy. He releases guy 2 and lets him drop the floor.

Bouncer: Oh, hey. Thanks Jack. Still sloppy.

He's the kind of guy that doesn't blink when you pull a knife on him.

Jack: Fuck you.

And then my buddy who was taking a piss comes back.

Buddy: Jack!

Jack: I didn't do it!

My buddy stares at me and I stare at my fist, which is still up, and the two guys on the ground.

Jack: Oh, yeah. I mean, I didn't start it.

So, yeah. Two one hit knockouts in about two minutes. I'm probably living some peoples' dreams of beating up a bully.

I honestly never believed that people were stupid enough to try to bully someone as an adult. I mean, that is called assault or harassment in the real world and those are both kind of illegal. Plus, it's been over a decade since I graduated. I had about half a foot of reach and fifty pounds on his crack-skinny ass, so I really have no idea what he was thinking. I mean, did I insult him? Yeah, but that's kind of what happens why you try something like that.

Anyway, next update I'll tell you about the other kid who tried to pick a fight with me. I honestly have no idea what's going on. I've been bar hopping for about a decade and I've never had as much trouble as I've had this spring.


	5. Chapter 5

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Five

"Well, everyone certainly seems excited," Ron commented as they walked towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom. The rest of their peers had rushed to the room after lunch and formed a line.

"Apparently, Professor Moody has left quite an impression," Hermione said. "I heard that the students have noticed him intimidating Snape in the halls."

"That's pretty awesome," Harry admitted. "Couldn't happen to a nicer guy." Ron snickered. The door opened and Harry found himself and his friends sitting in the back of room. The anticipation in the air was so thick it was palpable as they heard a stuttering shuffle approaching the room. The old man staggered into the room and swept its occupants before both his eyes came to rest on the trio.

"Potter, Granger, Weasley," he grunted. "Kill anything else interesting lately?"

"Not yet, give us some time," Ron stated. Hermione elbowed him in the ribs. Moody let out a short, horrifying bark of laughter.

"And you're sitting in the back of the room," he grunted. "Minnie's gonna owe me a galleon."

"Sir?" Hermione ventured.

"Had a bet with McGonagall that you three wouldn't sit where anyone could be behind you," Moody stated.

"Oh," Harry grunted as he realized he was sitting in the back of the room.

"Constant. . ." there was a loud clatter and the man trailed off in his bellow as he stared at the three students pointing their wands at him. ". . .vigilance." Harry glanced around at all the students staring at him and awkwardly put his wand away and sat back down. Ron followed suit and picked up the chair he had been sitting in and knocked over when he had stood. "Weasley, Potter! Ten points!"

"Sorry sir," Harry stated.

"Is there anything stopping you from casting while you're sitting?" Moody demanded.

"No sir," Ron said, sounding as confused as Harry felt.

"That's why Granger got her wand out first!" Moody snapped. "She didn't bother standing. That's why she's getting twenty points instead of ten."

"You're adding points instead of taking them?" Lavender asked in shock.

"Of course! They have the proper frame of mind," Moody announced. "I should take ten points from each of the rest of you."

"Think we should mention that we're all on pepper up potions?" Ron whispered as he leaned over. "And that this is just where we happened to sit?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth," Hermione hissed.

(:ii:)

The three wandered out of the classroom in somewhat of a daze. "Another competent Defense professor," Ron wondered. "Things are looking up. Hell, last year Lupin only tried to kill you accidentally, maybe Moody won't even do that."

"Honestly Ron," Hermione groaned. Harry remained silent, but felt a weight lift off his shoulders as he came to the same conclusion as Ron. "Now where's Neville?"

"There," Harry stated. They quickly made their way over to their shaken classmate. "Neville?" The boy jumped at his name. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," the boy said somewhat shrilly.

"No you're not," Hermione stated flatly.

"Longbottom!" The boy flinched and they turned to see Moody staggering out of the classroom towards them. Harry unconsciously shuffled between the student and the teacher. Moody stopped short with a look that might have been approval. "Come on boy, I think I have something you might like."

"You don't have to go with him if you don't want to," Harry stated. The old man let out a bark of laughter.

"Weasley, if you're going to circle into someone's blind spot, make sure they have one," he snarled. "Ten points."

"Potter! Longbottom!"

"Yes sir?" Neville squeaked.

"Ten points each for proper suspicious mindset," Moody growled. "And yet again, twenty points for Granger. Using Longbottom and Potter as concealment while you draw your wand. Very nice move."

"Thank you sir," Hermione stated. Harry watched as his friend was led away. "It's got to be the pepper up potions." Harry took a deep breath and blew it out, trying to ignore the feeling of ill ease that had washed over him. "Right?"

"Has to be," Harry agreed. They all nodded in agreement and made their way to their next class where they all chose to sit in the very back for completely unrelated reasons. At least they did until a Prefect arrived and told them that the Head Master wanted to speak with them.

(:ii:)

"What do you think this is about?" Harry asked as he led the group up the stairs.

"I'm thinking Monte Carlo," Ron stated.

"How could he know?" Hermione demanded in a whisper, glancing around for any interlopers.

"He's Dumbledore," Ron said fatalistically.

"Solid argument," Harry agreed, noting Luna standing beside the gargoyle protecting the door with absolutely no surprise. "Hey Luna."

"Hello!" the blonde chirped.

"Alright." Harry centered himself in the door. "Everybody ready for detention for the rest of our time here?"

"You're an optimist," Hermione stated blankly. "I'm pretty sure we committed a felony or two. I think that usually means expulsion. . .and then reenrollment is jail."

"Probably," Harry said. He glanced at the gargoyle. "The head master is expecting us." The stone creature stepped obligingly to the side. Harry led the way in and frowned as he noted the small crowd in Albus's office.

"Oh, shit," Ron hissed. "That's the Minister of Magic."

"I'm too smart to end up in jail," Hermione hissed back.

"Hello!" Luna announced.

"Ah! Mister Potter!" a sweaty, rotund man in a bowler announced as he charged forward and seized Harry's hand.

"Hi," Harry replied, trying desperately not to sink back from the man's overly friendly approach. . .and limp, sweaty hand. "Nice to meet you."

"Of course young man!" the sweaty man announced, desperately hanging on to Harry's hand as another man ran up and took a picture.

"Please Cornelius," Albus called. "We haven't even had a chance to tell them what this is about."

"Of course, of course!" Cornelius stated.

"I just want to say, it was an accident and it's all my fault," Harry stated.

"It was mine," Ron and Hermione snapped immediately.

"They are my minions!" Luna announced grandly. The room fell silent as all the adults stared at them.

"Quite the jokers aren't they?" Cornelius said with a rather forced laugh.

"This is about the basilisk, Harry," Albus stated. "The Minister was quite insistent that he make an appearance."

"All to honor our young heroes, of course!" Cornelius stated.

"Oh, right, the basilisk," Harry replied.

"What did you four think this was about?" Minerva demanded, her eyes narrowing dangerously.

"The. . .basilisk?" Harry ventured. "We're very sorry for doing something like that. It was not very smart and. . ."

". . .and reckless," Hermione supplied. "We should have told you about our concerns."

"It won't happen again," Ron added.

"Of course," Dumbledore agreed. "Now, Mister Malfoy has made time in his very busy schedule as well so that he could personally present you with your awards." Harry noticed the sour faced man for the first time.

"We're honored," he said immediately, enjoying the expression of the man who had once tried to curse him on a primal, vindictive level he had never experienced before. "Aren't we?"

"Of course!" Ron replied immediately with a smile that told Harry he was experiencing the exact same thing.

"The honor is all mine," the senior Malfoy managed to bite out.

"Excellent!" Cornelius announced. "Let's get this ceremony going and make sure you get lots of pictures!"

(:ii:)

Harry slipped into the infirmary and dropped his bags. "Good evening Madame Pomfrey."

"Hello Mister Potter," Poppy returned. Harry picked up a parchment and went back to work cataloging the potions that the school healer had in stock. "I heard you ran into Professor McGonagall early this morning."

"Yes," Harry replied slowly. "We were heading to the library before breakfast."

"What were you doing before that?" Poppy asked.

"Sleeping?" Harry ventured. He glanced back and caught Poppy's narrowed eyes. "So, have you had any luck with that venom?" The healer took a deep breath and let it out as a hiss.

"I've already found a buyer and completed the sale," she stated. "I was going to ask whether or not you and your friends would like me to deposit the money in your accounts, or if you'd like the money in your hands."

"I'd have to ask them, but you can deposit my money in my account," Harry stated.

"I see," Poppy stated. Harry turned back to the work at hand. "I also heard that you had a meeting with the Minister today."

"Yeah, he wanted to have the ceremony in front of the whole school, but Professor McGonagall was apparently very adamant that that would encourage other students."

"At least someone here is sane," Poppy grumbled. "I do hope you realize that it's not worth it, correct Mister Potter?"

"Risking my life and my friends' lives for money?" Harry asked. "That absolutely is not worth it."

"Good," Poppy growled. She frowned as she studied the young man's face. ". . .but?" she prompted.

" But it might be worth it to see that look on Malfoy's face," Harry admitted hesitantly. Poppy blew out an annoyed breath.

"Mister Potter, revenge is never worth it. A wise man defeats him enemies by befriending them."

"My enemies are horrible people who don't know anything about friendship and would probably try to curse me if they had a chance," Harry stated blankly. Poppy was saved from her, admittedly, weak position by a knock on the door.

"Come in!" The door swung open and Albus Dumbledore himself stepped into the room. "Oh, Head Master. What can I do for you?"

"I was actually hoping to speak with Harry," Albus stated, "if I may have a moment of your assistant's time."

"Of course!" Poppy announced. Maybe the legendary pacifist and statesman could talk some sense into Harry.

"Thank you," Albus said graciously. "I'm speaking with all four of you, actually. I just wanted to thank you for your stellar representation of what it means to be a Hogwarts student. I know you and Mister Malfoy have a. . .somewhat. . .checkered history, but you displayed all the decorum expected of. . ."

"You enjoyed that more than I did, didn't you?" Harry interrupted, his face a mixture of shock and enjoyment.

"I'm quite sure I don't know what you mean," Albus stated, his innocent smile intact.

"Right," Harry drawled. "Who was it that led the charge to have you dismissed for the last basilisk?"

"Oh. . .why, I do believe that was Mister Malfoy," Albus said cheerfully. "I never hold grudges though. I'm sure he was acting in the best interested of the student body and the school."

"Right," Harry replied. "Thank you for your kind words Head Master, but I need to get back to work."

"Of course!" Albus agreed. "If you'll excuse me, I need to go thank your friends." Poppy watched in horror as he only hope swept out of the infirmary.

"I am the only sane person here," she decided in shock.

"What was that Madame Pomfrey?" Harry asked.

"Nothing," Poppy stated.

"Okay." Harry turned back to the racks of potions. "What's a polysanguis potion? Is it like a polyjuice potion?"

"No, it's a blood replenishing potion," Poppy explained. Harry could still feel her staring holes into his back. "It's a marvel of potion making. It replenishes the exact amount of blood a person needs. However, you must stop the bleeding first."

"Is there a spell for that?" Harry asked as he turned, his interest piqued.

"Yes, but if the injury is to a limb, a tourniquet is quite a bit faster."

"What's a tourniquet?"

"Have a seat Mister Potter." Harry sat on a nearby stool and his first lesson on trauma medicine, and by extension, trauma magic commenced.

(:ii:)

Harry met up with his three friends in the common room of the Gryffindor dorms. "Anybody else have a run in with the Head Master?"

"Did you get the feeling that he was having a lot more fun than he should have?" Ron asked.

"So, I'm not the only one," Harry replied as he sat next to Luna.

"No, you are not," Hermione confirmed.

"That was awesome," Harry admitted, noting the similar smiles on two of his friends' faces. Luna had been leering at the ceiling since he arrived. "So, has anyone found anything?"

"The school library doesn't seem to have any books on becoming an animagus," Hermione stated.

"Almost like they don't want students to find out how to do it," Ron commented from behind a book. "It looks like Sirius is our only bet."

"I was thinking of going to talk to him tonight," Harry stated.

"You also need to sleep tonight," Hermione replied. "It seems like we're already suffering from some of the side effects of those pepper-up potions and those will be worse by an order of magnitude if you don't."

"I'm not going to be there for long," Harry replied. "By the way, Madame Pomfrey found a buyer and she wanted to know if you wanted the money to be given to you or put into your accounts?"

"I don't have an account," Hermione stated.

"I'd prefer it in cash too," Ron replied. "Luna?"

"Yes?" Luna asked.

"How would you like your money?" Harry asked.

"Money?" Luna asked.

"The money for the basilisk venom," Harry pressed.

"I want it in the adoration of my followers!" Luna announced as she smiled and stared over his shoulder.

"In hand it is," Harry decided. "I'll let Madame Promfrey know tomorrow." Harry retrieved his invisibility cloak from his trunk and made his way back to the common room. "I'll see you tomorrow."

(:ii:)

Sirius stretched languidly as he stared out at the beautiful city of Monte Carlo from his balcony. His meditation was interrupted by his linen closet bursting open and his godson flopping out. "Hey Harry. We need to set up a schedule. If you had showed up a thirty minutes ago, it would have been awkward."

"I guess so," Harry stated as he glanced at Sophie sprawled on the bed under a thin silk sheet.

"Yeah," Sirius replied. "Join me." Harry picked himself up and moved out onto the balcony. "Beautiful isn't it?"

"Yeah," Harry agreed, staring out over the city.

"You should be getting some sleep," Sirius stated.

"I had to talk to you." Sirius glanced at the boy and noticed the smirk on his lips. The sense of nostalgia hit him like a tidal wave as he remembered a different Potter wearing that same expression.

"What happened?"

"They had the ceremony for killing the basilisk today," Harry stated. Sirius could tell when he was baited and he had to admit that he enjoyed it.

"And?" he pressed.

"Malfoy's dad was there to personally award us the extra two hundred thousand galleons in front of the press," Harry said simply

"I see," Sirius replied just as simply. A possibly expression on the senior Malfoy's face flashed through him mind and he let out of a bark of laughter despite himself. "Oh, God. Was it everything I'm imagining?"

"Better," Harry stated. Sirius lost it and began laughing.

"I can only imagine." He slugged back his drink. "We need to celebrate!"

"What happened to sleep?" Harry ventured.

"You've got about four hours before anything happens," Sirius announced. "Besides, sleep is for those not celebrating the humiliation of their foes!"

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's rambling. So, I missed last month's update. This is probably paying for mocking all the college kids whining about finals. I actually do have finals. They are called the paramedic national registry exams and they mean that the medical directors of all the counties of my state and a bunch of high-ranking paramedics show up to question us. They are smart mother fuckers and they are kind of intimidating, especially since they might be your boss some day.

My funny story from these tests comes from the oral boards. You basically have to sit there with a renowned doctor and talk your way through a call. Talking without doing and keeping track of everything is harder than you can imagine. One of mine was that you're sitting in an ambulance and suddenly someone opens the door. You look back and there's a kid sitting on the stretcher. After wasting time, because of course they're timed, double checking the kid wasn't packing and establishing some communication, I ask: "So, what are you doing in my ambulance?" The medical director, who has been a doctor for probably longer than I've been alive and had an excellent poker face, laughs and mumbles: "Million dollar question, huh?"

Anyway, I passed that. Then I'm back on the street handling shit. Today I had a thirty-something year old male OD on heroin. I had to call in the request to terminate resuscitative efforts because this kid was still dead after everything we did and anything more was futile and a waste of time and resources.

You know what they say: "The last ride is the greatest!" That was his last ride. He's fucking dead and I spent forty minutes trying to unfuck the situation he put himself in without success. I wasted forty minutes I could have spent saving someone who had no control over the situating they were in while I was trying to save someone who didn't give a shit. My saving grace is that I didn't have to tell his mother, father, brother, girlfriend and kid. And yes, I found out that he had all of those because of course he did. Thank you facebook.

So, not to get preachy or anything, but drugs are bad, m'kay? No I'm not talking about fucking pot. Smoke it if you got it. Look, I know everyone blows off their parents and the DARE officer, if that is still a thing. I did when I was a kid in the nineties, when everyone preached that the devil weed would lead you to hard drugs. It won't.

God knows what they have to teach fifth and sixth graders now. I can't imagine having to tell kids that young that shoving a needle in your vein is a bad idea. I would never have thought to do that back then. Hell, I don't know if I would have been entirely sure what a vein was.

So, as your angry, drunk uncle who loves you all very much, please stay the fuck away from drugs.

Fuck you. Love you. Good night!


	6. Chapter 6

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Six

"Well, that's new," Minerva commented as she studied the Gryffindor table. In the midst of the students eating their breakfast, Harry Potter remained contently face down and apparently quite unconscious. "How hard do you work him Poppy?"

"Not that hard," Poppy stated. She too was studying the younger man. "Did he get a haircut?"

"And new glasses," Minerva agreed. "It's all strangely stylish."

"And the robes," Aurora Sinistra commented.

"What about them?" Minerva demanded as she squinted at the sleeping student. "Those are just student robes."

"You didn't see him walk in," Aurora stated. "Those are not student robes and are quite well tailored." Minerva leaned back in her chair as she contemplated all the details.

"What are they up to?"

"I have a theory," Aurora said as she sipped her pumpkin juice. "When do any young wizards start caring about their appearance?" Minerva stared at her blankly and the other witch sighed in annoyance. "When they fancy a young witch. Come on Minerva, you were young once, I think."

"I was indeed," Minerva stated crossly, "but that can't be it. No. That's too normal. They're up to something. I doubt any of them have every come that close to typical delinquent behavior."

"What's more likely?" Aurora asked, "Mister Potter snuck out for a date last night like every other student to walk through those doors, or he was off doing something dangerous that required a stylish makeover?"

"You don't know Potter," Minerva stated flatly. "He, no. . .they are up to something. They have to be. I don't know what it is yet, but I'll figure it out."

"When did you get so paranoid?"

"She's making sense to me," Moody grunted. Minerva stared at the man and felt reality come crashing down on her shoulders. That was not the kind of support she needed.

"At least they have Binns this morning. He can get some sleep there."

"Minerva!" Aurora gasped in shock and delight. "Are you implying that Mister Potter should sleep through a class?"

"Of course not!" Minerva snapped. "I would never imply that."

"Everyone sleeps in Binns's class." Pomona stated.

"I didn't!" Minerva countered.

"No, you waited for him to start droning and walked out," Pomona retorted. Minerva buried her face in her hands as Aurora began to snicker.

(:ii:)

"They're looking at us," Ron grunted as he pretended to take a sip from his goblet to mask the movement of his lips. "I never noticed before, but you can't read their lips."

"There's a ward up around the staff table so that students can't find out what the professors are talking about," Hermione explained as she finished making a sandwich. She poked her friend in the ribs and Harry shot to his feet, his hand groping for his wand.

"What?" he grunted.

"Eat," Hermione stated as she set the sandwich down on Harry's plate. Harry sat down and began devouring his meal. "And what happened to not staying out all night?"

"We got a bit caught up," Harry said thickly before finishing half his pumpkin juice. "Monte Carlo is beautiful."

"Watch what you say," Ron hissed. "The professors are watching us." Harry glanced at the staff table out of the corner of his eye and brought the remains of his sandwich up to his mouth.

"Why?"

"Might have something to do with you walking in and nearly going face first in a plate of eggs," Hermione commented. She glanced at the staff table, but they had started talking amongst themselves. "At least you got that book we needed from him."

"Hermione?" Ron ventured.

"Yes?"

"He's out again." Hermione turned back to her other friend and sighed in annoyance as she noticed that he had finished his sandwich and slumped back down.

"A certain mangy mutt is going to be receiving a strongly worded letter about this." Ron snickered as the owls flew into the Great Hall.

"At least we have Binns today, so he can get an hour and a half of sleep," the redhead commented.

"I suppose," Hermione admitted reluctantly. They were interrupted as a crimson letter landed on Ron's plate.

"Oh, I've been waiting on that."

"You've been waiting on a howler?" Hermione demanded, edging away from the innocuous looking piece of stationary.

"My mom had to find out at some point," Ron stated as he picked the message up. "Be right back." He disappeared through the doors to the Main Hall and Hermione winced as the magically-amplified voice of Misses Weasley still managed to make itself known. Once again, Harry rocketed to his feet, fumbling with his wand.

"Sit down Harry." The boy stared at her groggily for a moment before collapsing in his seat.

"I just had the weirdest dream."

"Misses Weasley was yelling at you?" Hermione ventured. Harry stared at her with wide eyes. "She just sent a howler."

"Oh. Okay then." Harry rubbed his forehead and covertly glanced around. "Why is everyone staring at me?"

"Well, it is the first time you've ever dressed up," Hermione stated. "It does look a tad odd." Harry scrubbed his hand through his styled hair and it flipped roguishly into his face.

"Better?" Hermione glanced around and sighed as she noticed much more interest from at least half the school.

"Sure, let's go with that."

(:ii:)

Ron dragged his friend into the great hall and aimed the other boy at a seat. "Still?" Hermione demanded and she snatched up a plate to keep Harry from going face first into it.

"Still," Ron agreed. The witch sighed and massaged her temples. "The teachers have actually moved past annoyed and into worried. Have you had a chance to go over the book Sirius sent?"

"Of course, we had History of Magic," Hermione stated. She snatched a quill out of Luna's hand as the blond started to advance on their sleeping friend. "No Luna."

"Awe," the blond whined before setting about making a sandwich.

"You ignored class?" Ron asked in shock and amusement.

"It's Binns," Hermione snapped defensively. "I taught myself more before I attended this school than he has in four years."

"Okay, okay," Ron said, his hands up peaceably, though there was still a smirk on his face. "So, how does it look?"

"Not easy, but very doable," Hermione stated. They both glanced over as Luna poked Harry in the ribs and shoved a sandwich in his face. "Well, that was somewhat lacking in subtlety."

"Effective though," Ron countered as Harry devoured his sandwich.

"I found a buyer for the basilisk skin," Luna chirped. "He's even in Hogsmeade."

"Convenient," Hermione said. "We can visit him on our first Hogsmeade weekend."

"If we're allowed to go," Ron grumbled. "I kind of think we'll be barred from the first one just to make a point."

"We have other avenues," Hermione replied.

"First we'll need to find a way to pierce the anti-apparition wards and then we have to learn to apparate!" Lune announced. Ron flinched and glanced around, but the blonde's outburst hadn't drawn any additional attention.

"Or we just use the hidden passages," he said simply.

"That seems boring."

"No," Hermione corrected, "it's practical. Practical is good. Practical is time saving. Practical is. . ."

"Boring," Luna whined.

"Practical," Ron corrected. They fell silent as a member of the staff stopped by them. "Good afternoon Madame Pomfrey."

"Good afternoon," Poppy replied. "When Mister Potter wakes up, please tell him that he is excused from detention tonight."

"Yes Madame Pomfrey," Hermione said. The school healer studied them all shrewdly.

"Do you know what Mister Potter was doing last night that left him in such a state?"

"No idea," Ron replied quickly. Poppy's eyes narrowed.

"I see. Well, please explain to Mister Potter that any late night rendezvous should be saved for the weekend."

"What. . ."

"We will," Hermione said quickly, stomping on Ron's foot to shut the boy up.

"We'll make sure that Harry stays away from Monte Carlo," Luna agreed.

"Monte Carlo?" Poppy repeated.

"What?" Ron managed. Poppy studied the young man for a moment before her lips twitch.

"I would advise that," she stated. "Tell him that his gambling and womanizing ways in Monte Carlo shouldn't interfere with his studies."

"What?" Ron demanded.

"We will," Hermione interrupted with a forced laugh. "Don't worry about that."

"See that you do." The school healer turned and made her way to the staff table.

"Did we really just get away with that?" Ron demanded in disbelief.

"I think we did," Hermione said, sounding rather shocked herself. "Luna, please don't talk about any illicit activities we may be involved in."

"Okay."

"She said late night rendezvous, right?" Ron asked.

"Yeah."

"She couldn't know about Sirius, right?"

"I'm hoping that she was thinking about a different kind of late night rendezvous," Hermione stated.

"What other kind of late night rendezvous are there?"

"The kind that young witches and wizards have." Ron stared at her blankly for a moment before nodding with a look of realization.

"Oh, yeah. I guess kids our age do normally do that kind of thing," he stated with a chuckle. He trailed off. "I've never gotten to do that. Have you?"

"No. It's always been a dragon or a basilisk or a three-headed dog or secretly brewing a polyjuice potion or. . ."

"Yeah." Ron took a deep breath. "Maybe next year."

"Maybe."

(:ii:)

Harry yawned and sat up, taking in his surroundings blearily. He had apparently been sleeping on a couch in the common room for a few hours. "Hey."

"Hey," Ron grunted. "So, Hermione, Luna and me just spent our entire detention getting grilled by McGonagall about what you did last night."

"What did you tell her?"

"Well, Ron and I honestly didn't know exactly what you and Sirius got up to last night, so we could, relatively honestly, say that we didn't know," Hermione growled. "Luna said something about Blubbering Hum. . .somethings."

"Blibbering Humdingers!" Lune announced happily.

"Pomfrey wanted you to know that you should keep your late night rendezvous to weekends so that they wouldn't interfere with your schooling," Ron stated. Harry's heart dropped.

"She knows about Siri. . ."

"Nope," Ron interrupted. "At least, we don't think she does."

"She thinks you were having another kind of late night rendezvous," Hermione added. "We think."

"What other kind of late night. . .oh," Harry replied. "Right. I guess some folks do that."

"Harry, every student except us does that," Hermione stated. Harry pondered that for a moment.

"Yeah, I guess they do. Have either of you. . ."

"No," Ron and Hermione stated.

"Yeah, me neither." Harry took a deep breath. "Maybe next year."

"Luna also found a buyer for the basilisk skin," Ron added. "He's in Hogsmeade, so that will be convenient."

"What about the other thing?" Harry asked, glancing at the student milling about the common room.

"It was require a few ingredient we don't have access to," Hermione stated. "My current plan is to bargain the price of the basilisk skin with the buyer in return for him getting them for us. It seems to cleanest way of doing things."

"I like it," Harry stated as he climbed to his feet. "We'll go tonight. The sooner we. . ." he was interrupted as Ron grabbed the scruff of his robes and sat him down.

"Not tonight."

"But. . ."

"No," Hermione interrupted. "You do not understand the ordeal McGonagall put us through. We are not doing that again. You are going to sleep and you are going to like it."

"But. . ."

"Or else," Ron added. Harry glanced around at his friends and two of them glared at him. Luna continued to bravely battle one of her text books to the death as it had come alive and tried to hit her after she had doodled on it.

"Sounds good."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's rambling. So, missed my schedule again. Sorry. I'm half tempted to make this a once every two months thing, but then again, I know myself well enough to know that would make me extra lazy and you guys would end up waiting four months for an update. I kind of like you guys too much to pull that bullshit off. I'm actually working on the SC Evangelion rererererere-write. I have about seven chapters down and when I have a few more, I'll post that in the interim so that you guys won't have to wait on my ass. Of course, that doesn't help anybody who has come on for just Harry Potter and doesn't want to read Evangelion stuff. I wouldn't know since not a lot of you new guys are speaking up and reviewing. Hint. Hint.

So, the Room of Requirements. I got a PM about that a while ago and since I missed my last update I couldn't really call myself out. Then I got about three reviews about it including one quoting the Potter wiki without mentioning the quoting part. Cite your sources folks. This is a test. Anyway. . .so. . .yeah. There's a pretty decent fuck up. Even though I reread the entire book, I somehow missed that. Yep. So give me that one. . .please. The room is kind of important and rewriting that chapter for the Four to find it would come out a lot more contrived, so for story's sake, let's hit that as our mark of divergence. At some point in third year they found the room. I'll just blame the Marauder's Map.

I will admit, I caught myself looking up the class schedule for Gryffindor fourth years and kind of had a "what the fuck am I doing?" moment. I'm usually not that serious about this writing thing, so I had to take a step back. This is still supposed to be fun, not a research project. Hopefully I'll keep fuck ups of that level to just that one. And if you're someone who somehow knows what every class on every day is for all seven years off the top of your head. . .I'm not judging, but you could have a better hobby. And you've also come to the wrong writer.

So, funny stories, I had a patient die on me. Not funny for him or his family, but I have a really odd sense of humor. Actually, it wasn't funny for me either. He was a DNR/DNI patient on hospice with end stage everything cancer. He canked enroute and my FTO had to grab me as I went into auto mode and tried to resuscitate. Then I spent two minutes mentally spinning my wheels trying to figure out what the hell to do to help him without violating his wishes.

That was odd. Then I had to call the doctor, who woke up on the asshole side of the bed and tell him what had happened. Fortunately, I speak asshole.

-Doctor: Why haven't you begun CPR?

-Jack: Cause he has a valid DNR/DNI.

-Doctor: Why are you transporting if the patient is a DNR/DNI?

-Jack: Cause the family asked us to.

-Doctor: Why do you have a patient who isn't breathing on CPAP?

-Jack: Cause he was breathing when we put him on it.

This was after a long night. After finishing with coms, I notice my FTO is in hysterics and I mentally go over the radio call.

-Jack: Oh shit. Did I sound sarcastic?

-FTO: No. You sounded one hundred percent professional and that is awesome. Nothing it going to piss that motherfucker off more.

So we get to the hospital and a doctor comes storming out to meet us. He demands to know who was on the radio. I take off my sunglasses and stare down at him and tell him it was me. He looks up at me and notices that I'm three inches taller and probably forty pounds heavier. Now, I have a very good resting rage face that is really accentuated by the bags under my eyes from when I can't sleep cause everyone decides to have toe pain all night long. He decides he needs to be somewhere else. I really wasn't trying to intimidate him, it just kind of happened.

I heard that actually caused some kind of snit since everyone could listen in as he played "ask 20 stupid questions that don't need to be asked" instead of just giving a time of death. Whatever, not my problem. I went three hours overtime, with no pay cause I'm a student, before I got to go home and make it through half a beer before I was sleeping on the couch.

So, love you guys. Good night.

-Jack


	7. Chapter 7

Seven: I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Seven

"I think they've stopped paying so much attention," Harry grunted as he collapsed at the dinner table and began piling food on his plate.

"Well, you did manage to stay awake for most of the day," Ron replied. "Are they looking this way?" Hermione pulled out a makeup compact and studied her reflection for a moment.

"They're glancing over every once in a while," she concluded finally as she put the small mirror away.

"Since when did you start carrying makeup?" Ron asked in shock.

"Since I noticed the professors watching us and decided I might need a way to watch them back without drawing attention," Hermione countered.

"Actually, you pulling out a compact might draw more attention," Ron pointed out. Hermione's proud look disappeared and she deflated somewhat.

"I think you're right. Hello Luna."

"Hello!" the blond announced as she crashed down next to Ron. "Are we spying on the professors?"

"I actually think we're failing to spy on the professors while they're spying on us," Hermione grumbled. She picked up a lamb shank to hide her lips. "Are we going to Hogsmeade tonight?"

"Yeah," Harry grunted, pretending to drink from a goblet. "We'll meet up twenty minutes after detention in the usual place. Sounds good?"

(:ii:)

"Did you see that?" Poppy asked in shock.

"Did Miss Granger just pull out a. . ." Minerva couldn't quite bring herself to believe what she had just seen enough to finish her statement.

"Makeup!" Aurora cheered. "Your troublemakers are apparently growing up, unless you think she has some ulterior motive for buying makeup."

"No," Minerva grumbled.

"You know," Aurora began. "Mister Potter and Miss Granger. . ."

"I really doubt it," Minerva interrupted.

"They've been together since first year," Aurora countered.

"Exactly, all three of them have been together since first year," Minerva stated. "If anyone, I would think Miss. . ." she trailed off as she actually contemplated the words about to come out of her mouth. "You know, I can't claim any knowledge about Mister Potter's preferences, but Miss Lovegood just seems like an odd choice."

"Of course she does," Filius grunted. "Anything involving a Lovegood seems like an odd choice." Besides them all, Poppy scratched her chin as she considered her options.

(:ii:)

Harry slipped into the infirmary and dropped his bag. "Good evening Madam Pomfrey."

"Good evening Mister Potter." Harry froze and glanced at the older woman suspiciously. There was something about her tone that had set him on edge. "Are you feeling better after yesterday?"

"I am," Harry agreed as he studied the school healer. She had an odd expression on her face and there was a chalk board next to her covered in diagrams.

"Excellent," Poppy stated. "Please have a seat."

"Shouldn't I start inventory?"

"I've decided that we should discuss something today."

"Okay." Harry sat down across from the older woman.

"Now, I have learned that your family is not the most. . ."

"Lot of words could go there," Harry replied.

"I see," Poppy said peaceably. "So, now that you have decided that you should go sneaking out after curfew for late night meetings, I've decided that you should understand certain things about witches and wizards."

"What?"

(:ii:)

Ron glanced up as the door to the Room of Requirement opened. "Oh, hey Harry."

"Hey." Ron frowned at his friend's tone and glanced back up from his book.

"Are you okay?" he ventured.

"I just got the talk from Madame Pomfrey," Harry stated.

"What talk?" Hermione asked.

"The talk," Harry stated. Hermione glanced at Ron in confusion. It took him a moment to wrap his head around that statement.

"Oh."

"Oh?" Hermione pressed.

"The talk," Ron stated. Hermione's eyes widened as she too comprehended those words.

"Oh," she replied. Harry dropped himself into an over-sized couch and Luna patted his head in what may have been a comforting manner.

"Well," Ron began after a moment of contemplation. "You deserved that."

"How?" Harry demanded.

"It balances out for what we had to put up with from McGonagall last night," Ron stated. Harry's jaw dropped to argue.

"He's right," Hermione added, cutting off Harry's retort.

"But. . ." Harry sputtered.

"And, to be fair, which you don't deserve in this case," Ron continued, "my mother was planning on doing the same thing at some point after my father told her what kind of people your family is."

"Does she use pictures and diagrams?" Harry demanded.

"Yup." That seemed to take some of the wind out of Harry's sails.

"What about anatomical models?"

"What?" Ron asked.

"You know. . .fake. . .you know." Harry made several vague hand gestures and Ron's jaw dropped.

"Why would they make those?"

"For sex ed," Hermione stated. "It's not that weird."

"It is when they move," Harry shot back. Now Hermione's jaw dropped.

"Why would they make those?" she demanded.

"For sex ed," Harry snapped. "It's not that weird." Hermione stared at him in shock.

"Let's just go," Ron interrupted. "Let's pretend this never happened."

"I can never pretend this never happened!" Harry roared.

"Well, we already agreed that you deserved it, so we'll pretend it never happened," Ron countered.

"I saved your sister you know."

"And I'm very grateful. You still had it coming."

"Traitor."

(:ii:)

Harry stared at the shady little shop sitting on the outskirts of Hogsmeade. "Sal's Magical Adventure Goods," Ron read from the dingy sign next to the door.

"Well, this place seems on the up and up."

"Yeah."

"Hello!" Luna called as she kicked in the front door.

"From now on Luna doesn't lead," Harry stated.

"Even if she's the only one who knows where we're going?" Hermione asked.

"Especially then," Harry replied.

"Sounds good," Ron grumbled. Harry nodded and moved through the open door into the store. Beyond the entryway, there was very little to settle his nerves. The building contained rows of shelves that seemed to stretch much further than the building's outside appearance should allow.

"Luna?"

"In the back!" Luna called. Harry glanced back at Hermione and Ron. They nodded and fanned out, each taking a different aisle. Harry made his way towards the back of the store and tried not to stare at the odd knickknacks and doodads. He exited the stacks and found his friend sitting on a counter next to an older, badly weathered man with short black Mohawk on his head. The man studied him for a moment and a nasty grin twisted his features.

"Mister Potter," he rasped. "I've been expecting you."

"You have?" Harry asked as he slipped his wand out of his sleeve as covertly as he could.

"I have. A man with a price on his head like you. . ." the man trailed off as Hermione and Ron slipped out of the aisles and tried to causally drift into positions with clear lines of fire. "I wondered what would happen when they stuck Old Mad Eye up at the school," he stated before letting out a bark of laughter.

"You know Moody?" Harry asked, relaxing slightly.

"One of my best customers and my old partner!" the man stated. "I kind of thought he tipped you off to my dragon skin vests.

"Dragon skin vest?" Harry parroted.

"Yeah," the man grunted. He reached behind the counter and came up with a scaly, dark gray vest. "Only the finest Ironbelly hide. Good for most low level curses and jinxes. It can take a major curse maybe once. . .if you're lucky. Nobody has ever come back to complain that it didn't. Though, nobody has ever come back to say that it did." Harry approached the counter cautiously, slipping his wand back into his sleeve as he studied the vest. "They're not cheap, but neither is life."

"I'm aware of that," Harry countered.

"I suppose you would be," the man returned as he stuck out a hand. "I'm Sal."

"Harry," Harry said automatically as he shook the man's hand. "That's Ron and Hermione. I think you know Luna."

"Yup," Sal replied, patting the girl on the head. "So, we'll talk vests later. Xeno said you had something to sell?"

"He didn't tell you what it was?" Harry asked as Hermione made her way over and began rooting through her bag.

"He may have," Sal admitted, "but he's Xeno and he says a lot of things, most of which are not what you would call relevant. He's very. . ."

"His daughter's father?" Ron supplied.

"Eccentric, yes," Sal agreed cheerfully. Hermione pulled out the rolled up hide and plopped it on the counter. Sal's grin fell in a moment. "This is a basilisk skin."

"Yes," Harry replied even though the man's statement wasn't a question.

"I kind of thought that was one of the irrelevant parts of Xeno's story," Sal grunted as he began inspecting the skin, pausing when he came to the dozen or so fist sized holes. "Where did you get this skin?"

"From a basilisk," Luna stated happily. Sal set down the skin and sighed before glancing up at Harry.

"And here I had hoped you had taken after your father."

"My father?" Harry parroted.

"Yep. You are definitely your mother's kid," Sal plopped himself down on a stool behind the counter. "I swear, I spent my last two years at Hogwarts with her running circles around me."

"My mother was a troublemaker?" Harry asked in bewilderment.

"Oh yes. Couldn't keep that girl from scamming her way into the restricted section of the library," Sal grumbled, "which wouldn't have been so bad, but then she just had to try everything she had read. I lost count of how many bathrooms she did things to with her illicit potion breweries."

"No one ever mentioned that," Harry stated.

"Of course they didn't, she was too smart to get caught!" Sal announced. "Drove me up the wall." He glanced at Harry. "I mean, she was a wonderful woman. She just tended to destroy things when she got curious. . .or bored. . .or just had too much free time." Harry frowned as he digested what the man had said.

"What do you mean: "did things"?"

"Well, at first she blew bathrooms up, then she got creative," Sal grumbled. "I still don't know what she did to turn an entire bathroom plaid. Anyway, so, good news, bad news. What do you want first?"

"Bad news," Harry replied immediately.

"I can't pay market price for this up front," Sal admitted. "I don't have the liquid assets for it."

"Good news?" Harry asked.

"You have two options," Sal stated. "We can go lower than market price in return for a percentage of the profits or, instead of percentage I can offer trade."

"Trade," Hermione stated immediately as she rooted through her bag. She came up with a piece of paper and laid it on the counter. "We can start with this." Sal stared down at the paper and an eyebrow went up.

"All the difficult to find ingredients for an animagus potion?" he asked. He looked up and stared at the four of them.

"Ask us no questions we'll tell you everything!" Luna chirped.

"It's supposed to be "tell you no lies"," Ron corrected.

"That too!"

"Just so glad I'm not a prefect anymore," Sal grumbled. "What else? These ingredients are difficult to find, but not exactly pricey. So, wand holsters, new shoes, clothes, anything like that?" Harry glanced down at the over-sized toes of his shoes poking out from under his robes.

"I would actually like that."

"One pair of shoes," Sal stated, writing on Hermione list. "What else?"

"You can do clothes?" Ron asked.

"I'm kind of a jack of all trades," Sal explained, "tailor, cobbler, candle stick maker. Whatever you need I can make or get."

(:ii:)

"That went surprisingly well," Harry commented as he changed into his pajamas.

"Hm," Ron grunted as he dumped a book on his bed and spread out his map.

"Ron, you need to. . ."

"If you tell me to sleep I will curse you." Harry fell silent as he pondered that.

"That's fair."

"Yes it is."

"Look, I'm just going to say, the weekend is in two days."

"And?" Ron asked suspiciously.

"And I think you'd enjoy Monte Carlo," Harry stated.

"Monte Carlo?" someone grumbled.

"Ignore everything Neville," Harry ordered.

"Okay."

"So?" The redhead stared at him suspiciously.

"I'm just saying."

"Fine."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. So, I miss a bunch of updates and still release a short chapter. My bad. This is kind of a weird part where the book undergoes a couple week (month?) time skip. That means I had to kind of invent some stuff.

Also, Sal. I think this might be my first OC in this story. For my new readers, I throw a lot of OCs in. They're usually pretty well received. Not that there seems to be any new readers since they don't seem to review.

So, Happy New Years folks. Drink and stay safe. And remember, there's always a chance that this will be a better year. Couldn't get much fucking worse.

-Jack


	8. Chapter 8

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Eight:

Sirius settled back in his chair and awaited what was coming. His god son did not disappoint and came tumbling out of the linen closet with quite a ruckus. "Merde!" Sophie shrieked, lunging for her wand. She gawked at the pile of teenagers on the floor and turned an accusatory glared on Sirius.

"Did I forget to mention that?" he asked as innocently as he could. Sophie threw up her hands in exasperation and stormed into the bathroom.

"Hey Sirius," Harry said as he climbed to his feet.

"Harry," Sirius returned warmly as he climbed to his feet and tripped over his tied together shoelaces. "Very mature!" he yelled at the bathroom. Sophie leaned out and flashed him a victory sign before disappearing again. "It goes the other way!" Sirius stared at the door for a moment. "I love that woman." He fixed his shoes and climbed back to his feet. "Do you four need breakfast?"

"We ate at the castle," Harry answered.

"We figured it would be too suspicious if we missed all the meals," Ron added.

"Good thinking," Sirius admitted. "That gives us until dinner?"

"Until we have to be back for detention," Harry corrected.

"You have detention?" Sirius asked.

"We have a month's worth of detention," Ron corrected.

"How long have you been in school?"

"A week." Sirius sat back down and contemplated that.

"Damn. I think we topped out at a week of detention and I don't think we ever got detention in the first month."

"We're over achievers," Hermione said dryly.

"Speaking of which, how goes the animagus potion?" Sirius asked.

"Pretty good," Harry said. "We have a guy hunting down some of the ingredients for us." Sirius stared at the boy.

"Really?" Harry nodded. "You know, I kind of gave you that book because I didn't think you'd be able to pull it off."

"What can you say? We're over achievers," Hermione said.

"Who?" Sirius asked.

"A guy named Sal," Harry answered. Sirius frowned as he contemplated the only man he knew with that name.

"Guy who looks like he could beat a dragon to death and eat it's still beating heart?" he ventured.

"Uh. . ."

"Yeah, that Sal," Sirius sighed.

"Is he a bad guy?"

"What? No! No, no, no. He's a great guy. It's just that he's responsible for about half of the detentions I got in my second year before he graduated," Sirius admitted. "Damned prefects have no sense of humor with some things."

"He said that my mother ran circles around him," Harry ventured,

"Your mother ran circles around all of us," Sirius replied. "It's just that all of her pranks weren't actually meant to be pranks. Anyway, so, I have quite the day planned! We're going to be drinking, gambling, maybe a little fighting. . ."

"No," Harry interrupted.

"What?" Sirius asked blankly.

"How about we tone that down a little?" Ron pressed.

"Ooh!" Sophie announced, bursting out of the bathroom. "We could go to the harbor, the square, the Oceanographic Museum, the Grimaldi Forum. . ."

"That's boring!" Sirius interrupted.

"Actually, that sounds great," Harry countered. "A nice relaxing day of sightseeing."

"What kind of teenagers are you?" Sirius demanded.

"The kind who have done too much already," Hermione answered plainly. Sirius considered that for a moment and frowned as he realized the truth.

"Fine."

"Oh, don't pout, we can have dinner at the casino," Sophie offered.

"Fine," Sirius grumbled. "When do you guys have to be back?"

"After dinner," Harry stated. "We made arrangements."

(:ii:)

"Mister Longbottom!" Neville turned and paled slightly as he saw the Deputy Headmistress

"Good morning Professor."

"Have you seen Mister Potter and his friends?" Minerva demanded.

"I saw them at breakfast," Neville offered nervously

"How about since then?" Minerva asked.

"I just saw them somewhere," Neville answered, "I just can't remember where."

"When you see them, ask them to come speak with me."

"Sure," Neville replied, offering his best smile. Minerva glared at him for a long moment before turning and walking away. Neville managed to wait until she was out of sight before he began hyperventilating.

(:ii:)

"Poppy!" Poppy turned and felt and eyebrow rise as the Deputy Headmistress walked into the infirmary.

"What can I do for you Minerva?"

"Have you seen Mister Potter and his friends?"

"I can't say that I have," Poppy replied. "I tried to speak with Mister Potter after breakfast, but I couldn't find him. Mister Finnegan told me that he had just seen them."

"I heard something similar from Mister Longbottom," Minerva stated, her eyes narrowing. That simple statement made Poppy's hair stand on end for some reason.

"You haven't seen them all day?"

"I haven't," Minerva confirmed. "I was planning on telling them that their detention has been cancelled for the weekend."

"Getting soft?" Poppy teased, despite her own worries.

"Getting worried," Minerva corrected stiffly. "They are planning something. Every detention, Mister Weasley had been obsessed with his extra credit. That worries me. That is not what they normally do. I can believe that they get dragged into situations every year; however, this planning is new. I don't like it."

"Maybe he really is studying," Poppy offered.

"No," Minerva stated frankly. "That's not it and all I can hope for, is that I can distract them from whatever they're doing. If that means letting them have fun for a weekend. I'll do it. I just hope that they're not planning right now."

(:ii:)

"See, this is pretty cool," Harry stated.

"The fish museum was kinda cool," Sirius agreed grumpily, "and this is a pretty cool house."

"That's because it's a palace," Sophie stated. "Now stop pouting, you're having a good time."

"This palace has been the home of a single family since 1297," Hermione stated. "Except for a twenty year period starting in the late eighteenth century."

"What happened then?" Sirius asked curiously.

"The French," Hermione said simply.

"Ah. They will do that."

"You say the sweetest things," Sophie purred. The group continued to study the massive fortress in awe. Sirius checked his watch.

"About time for dinner?"

"Sounds good!" Sophie chirped. They ducked out of the crowd and Sirius produced a portkey. They reappeared in Sirius's room. "You set up the reservations?"

"Le Salon Rose," Sirius stated.

"My favorite, you soft hearted romantic."

"Just a coincidence," Sirius insisted. "We British men are not soft hearted romantics. That's the French."

"Whatever you say, my love. Now, we must get ready."

"That means get out, doesn't it?" Sirius asked. Sophie smiled brightly. "To the balcony." Sirius scooped up a bottle of scotch and a few glasses before leading Harry, Ron and Luna out to the balcony. "I think you're supposed to be in there getting ready."

"Oh!" Luna turned on her heel and strolled back into the room. Sirius glanced at Ron and Harry, but the two just shrugged.

"Whatever. So, what have you guys been up to at school?"

"We have another competent Defense professor," Ron offered.

"What's that, two in a row?"

"Yeah."

"Nice," Sirius commented. "What about quidditch? Have you started practices yet?" He frowned as he saw Ron flinch. "What?"

"Quidditch was canceled," Harry grumbled.

"What?"

"We're hosting some damn thing called the Tri-Wizard Tournament," Harry stated as he accepted a glass and took a sip. Sirius cracked the door.

"Sophie, have you heard of the Tri-Wizard Tournament?"

"Oh, that damned thing," Hermione grumbled from within.

"That damned thing?" Sophie parroted. "The Tri-Ward Tournament is one of the oldest, most honorable. . ."

"Attempts to kill students?" Harry called. There was a long pause.

"My little sister is going to Hogwarts," Sophie stated finally. "Remind me to write her and tell her to stay out of that damned thing."

"Smart woman," Harry stated as he sipped his drink.

"Wouldn't date a dumb one," Sirius agreed as he closed the door again. "Remember that you two. Dumb women are fun in the short term, but you marry a smart woman if you're a smart man. . .or a smart woman who marries other women. . .I guess."

"My first official life lesson from my godfather," Harry commented. All three nodded, toasted and took a drink before turning to watch the sun setting over Monte Carlo.

"Oh, and Sophie wants to give you your first lesson on occlumency after dinner," Sirius commented.

"Why do I have a bad feeling about that?"

(:ii:)

"Good evening Madame Pomphrey." Poppy turned at her desk and felt an eyebrow rise as her assistant walked into the infirmary. The young man was, again, wearing stylishly cut robes with his hair carefully styled. Despite that, he was pale and his hands were shaking.

"Are you alright Mister Potter?"

"I'm fine," Harry stated. Poppy felt an eyebrow rise as the student's voice broke. "How are you?"

"I'm fine," she stated. "Actually, I've been trying to find you. You weren't at lunch of dinner."

"I was studying," Harry said as he picked up his log. He frowned at the silence and glanced back the school healer. The woman's face stated that she absolutely did not believe him.

"Interesting attire for studying." Harry glanced down at the robes he had worn to the restaurant.

"Sometimes I just like to look nice."

"I see. Anyway, I was trying to find you to tell you that Professor McGonagall has decided that you and your friends have been excused from detention for the weekend."

"So, I can go?"

"You could go," Poppy agreed.

"But?" Harry ventured.

"But it's Saturday night and the students are being. . ."

"Stupid?"

"I wouldn't say that."

"I would."

"Anyway," Poppy said. "I could use some help."

"Sure."

(:ii:)

"Where have you been?" Hermione asked as Harry walked into the Room of Requirement.

"You have no idea what the students in this school get up to," Harry stated blankly.

"You decided to help Madame Pomphrey?" Ron asked.

"She is a saint."

"She's always done pretty good by us," Hermione admitted. "Thought explaining that whole "cat" incident was not fun."

"Regrowing my arm wasn't great either," Harry added.

"Cat?" Luna asked, producing a roll of parchment and tugging out the quill from behind her ear.

"We are not talking about that," Harry said firmly, "mostly because we actually got away with it somehow."

"And you could still get in trouble for it?" Luna pressed.

"Exactly." Harry pulled out the Marauder's Map and stepped out into the hallway. He led the foursome through the halls to their chosen passage and on into Hogsmeade. They reached Sal's with a minimum of avoiding the townsfolk and made their way into the shop. "Sal?"

"In the back!" They made their way through the shop and found Sal sitting at the counter with a bottle and five glasses. "Welcome honored business partners!"

"You found a buyer for the skin?" Ron asked.

"Some of it. I've already got a dozen orders. All I did was announce the material and I immediately got a dozen owls. . .and a visit from the aurors, but that doesn't really matter."

"You were visited by the aurors?" Ron asked.

"For. . .about five minutes and then the duty boss showed up and told them to run," Sal stated. "He was my rookie. I left an impression." He poured five glasses. "And now, we drink to all the former Death Eaters who want to look cool with basilisk skin!"

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, all emotion dropping from his voice.

"Their money is gold and they pay four times as much, whether they know it not," Sal said happily. "Now drink!"

"I can drink to scamming Death Eaters," Harry admitted as he picked up his glass.

"It's not scamming, it's karma." Harry nearly snorted whiskey out of his nose. "Now, I have those ingredients and your shoes Mister Potter."

"Excellent." Sal frowned and stared at the younger man.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine, why?"

"Well, you are staring at my cheekbones, which are fabulous, but it's a little weird." The man studied him shrewdly for a moment. "Ooooh. You're learning occlumency. First lesson?"

"Yeah."

"How'd that go?"

"Well."

(:ii:)

"Okay, Harry. I want you to clear your mind."

"Clear my mind," Harry repeated.

"Right," Sophie chirped. "Try to clear away all your thoughts, all your memories, all of you."

"I don't think that's going to work," Ron commented. "Harry tends to. . ."

". . .dwell," Hermione supplied.

"Yeah," Ron agreed.

"Well, just try."

"Okay. Is this going to hurt?"

"Not physically," Sophie answered happily. She lunged forward suddenly and caught Harry's eyes. In an instant he was gone. There was a flash of green light and someone screamed in the distance. In the next moment he felt pain tear into his arm and acid begin to spread through his body. Then he was sitting in Sirius's room again with Sophie staring at him looking at least as shocked as he felt.

"Harry?" Sirius ventured. Harry turned and stared at the man, only then realizing that his cheeks were wet with tears and he was almost hyperventilating. "Are you okay?" Then a pair of arms seized him by the neck and introduced him face first into Sophie's cleavage while the woman wailed something in French.

"What's she saying?" Harry managed.

"Something about the greatest sorrows," Hermione answered.

"Oh. . .marvelous. She's gone full French poet," Sirius grumbled. "The spell can't even keep up with her Frenchness."

"Frenchness?" Ron repeated,

"Sure. Sounds good to me," Sirius admitted.

"Group hug!" Luna announced before latching onto Harry's back.

"Sirius?" Harry ventured.

"Well, a lot of men would pay to be between two blondes," Sirius stated as he held up his camera. "Now, everyone say misery!"

(:ii:)

"It was. . .a. . .well, it was a thing," Harry stated.

"Good for you. Try not to break your head."

"That can happen?"

"Sometimes. Right Luna?"

"Right!" the tiny blonde chirped.

"Luna?" Harry ventured.

"My family has a long history of using a forbidden technique to hide our memories," Luna stated.

"Why?" Harry asked.

"Reporters need to be able to keep their secrets," Luna stated. "I could teach you, but there is a slight chance that you could lose your mind if I do."

"How slight?" Harry asked.

"I don't know the specifics because no one in my family has every gone crazy from it!" Luna announced happily.

"No one, huh?" Harry asked. Ron didn't bother looking at him. Sal and Hermione looked like they were desperately trying not to laugh. "Hell, might be worth looking in to."

-End

(:ii:)

-Authors drunk rambling. So, can we add super drunk rambling? I'm not going to lie. I am beyond gone. I mean, I am typing this one eyed because my motor can't catch up.

So, I'm way past normal, at least as far as I've been for the last few stories. This has to be be because typing takes me four times as long. Hope you liked it.

-Jack


	9. Chapter 9

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Nine

"I'm good Luna," Harry stated as the blonde advanced on him with sandwich in hand.

"Are you sure?"

"I'm sure," Harry said. "I will take that sandwich though."

"Okay." Harry took a large bite of the sandwich and sighed in pleasure. It was the simple things in life; like bacon, eggs and cheese between two pieces of toast.

"Mister Potter." Harry nearly gagged on his sandwich.

"Hello, Professor McGonagall," Hermione chirped. "How are you this morning?"

"I'm fine," Minerva stated as Luna pounded on Harry's back. "I would like to speak with the four of you after breakfast. I would like you to wait outside the main hall. Understood?"

"Sure!" Harry rasped. The professor nodded and made her way to the staff table. "Anybody have any idea what this is about?"

"Nobody saw us last night, coming or going," Ron grunted from behind his goblet. "Right?"

"There are a lot of eyes outside the castle," Hermione argued as she nibbled some bacon. "You don't think Sal would have. . ." They all glanced at Luna and she grinned at them brightly. "Good enough for me."

"Same," Harry agreed. They finished their meals and walked out to the meeting spot. Minerva was already waiting for them. "Is something wrong, Professor?"

"Should something be wrong Mister Potter?"

"No." Minerva stared at him shrewdly for a moment.

"I want you four to understand that while I don't approve of what you did, I understand that you were in a very stressful situation and made a decision as you saw fit," the woman said carefully. "Therefore, I want you to relax today. To this end, I have arranged for you four to be able to visit Hogsmeade today."

"What?" Ron gasped.

"I would prefer that you didn't mention this to the other students," Minerva added as she produced four slips of paper. "Be back before dinner."

"Yes Professor," Harry replied automatically before taking the slips. The teacher turned on her heel and strode away. "What the hell is going on?"

"I don't know," Hermione stated.

"I don't like this," Ron added.

"She's up to something," Harry said confidently. "That's got to be it."

"She has to be spying on us or something," Ron agreed.

"So, what do we do?" Harry asked.

"We have fun!" Luna chirped. They all stared at her for a moment.

"Actually, that would be the best thing to do," Hermione said. "If they're spying on us, we should just act like normal students. Though I would like to be able to get to Sal's. I have a few things I'd like to get."

"Right. I've got an idea," Ron stated.

(:ii:)

"Is this what you were expecting?" Alastor asked.

"I'm not sure," Minerva admitted as the two professors studied the students from their hiding place. They continued whispering amongst themselves. "I thought they'd be a little more excited."

"They're paranoid," Alastor stated with approval. "They may not know what exactly, but they know you're up to something."

"What do they have to be paranoid about?" Minera demanded. "They're students, not soldiers." Alastor stared at her even as his magic eye stayed locked on the group.

"I've heard the stories. The things they've been through would have probably killed most of the kids they're calling aurors nowadays," he said simply. Minerva scowled, but couldn't argue.

"Speaking of which, do you really think Miss Tonks will be able to follow them?" she asked.

"If those kids can pick out a metamorph, I'm going to give them each one hundred points and recommend the ministry hires them," Alastor stated. "Then I'm going to recommend that Tonks goes back to the academy for as long as it takes. Bones recommended her personally and I'd hate to be disappointed."

"I do seem to remember Miss Tonks being a tad. . .clumsy."

"You think they'll figure out that an old man, a young woman and a child are the same person because they all tripped over their own two feet?" Alastor asked.

"This will be the perfect chance to do that thing I wanted to do!" They both turned at the second youngest Weasley's voice.

"Oh. . .that, right," Hermione replied.

"I'll go grab it," Ron stated.

"Hah!" Minerva said proudly.

"Huh," Alastor grunted. "Not going to lie, I didn't think this would work."

(:ii:)

"I feel like we're being watched," Harry grumbled as they made their way down the main street of Hogsmeade. "

"We are," Ron said. "All the townspeople are watching us. We're Hogwarts students openly walking down the street on a non-Hogsmeade weekend. . .and you're Harry Potter."

"I need to get a hat or something."

"They're probably going to tell McGonagall," Hermione grumbled.

"Probably," Harry agreed. They walked to Sal's and pushed the door open. "Sal?"

"In the back!" the man called. "Shouldn't you be in school?"

"McGonagall gave us a pass," Harry said as he walked to the back to find the man sitting with his boots up on the counter. "You never complained before."

"You usually slink in here late at night so I had plausible deniability before," Sal stated. "Anyway, when did she get nice?"

"We think she's spying on us," Hermione explained.

"That makes sense. . .and why would she need to spy on you?" Sal asked. The four remained silent. "Let me guess, this has something to do with the basilisk skin you brought in."

"Among other things," Harry admitted.

"Like the ingredients for an animagus potion?" Sal pressed.

"Among other things," Ron repeated. Sal stared at them blankly before letting out a loud bark of laughter.

"I'm starting to like you kids. . .and I'm really starting to like that I didn't take that job as the Defense instructor." Sal swung his boots down and climbed to his feet. "So, you ducked in here to see if anyone would follow?"

"A little," Hermione admitted.

"Well, I don't exactly have a lot of foot traffic," Sal grumbled. "I'm a little too specialized for your everyday witch or wizard. Speaking of which, how are those shoes Potter?"

"Really comfortable actually," Harry admitted, staring down at the emerald toes sticking out from the hem of his robe.

"Good. Anyway, you kids need anything else?"

"A few more potions ingredients," Hermione said as she set down a list. Sal studied it and nodded.

"No problem, anything else?"

"Well," Ron began as he dug into his own pack and pulled out a bolt of scarlet cloth. "Is there anything you can do about this?" Sal took the cloth and unrolled Ron's hand me down dress robes.

"Well. . .this is very. . .retro," he said carefully. "Family heirloom?"

"You could say that," Ron agreed. "Is there anything you can do with it?"

"Burn it?" Sal ventured.

"It'd probably be an improvement," Ron said.

"Thank god," Sal grunted, launching the robe over his shoulder. "Alright! Let's see what we can do. I can't have my dear business partners showing up to a party looking anything less than fabulous! It would look bad on me."

"What do we even need those dress robes for?" Harry asked.

"It's for the Yule Ball," Hermione explained. "It's a dance held every year during the tournament."

"A dance?" Harry repeated.

"It's mandatory for fourth years and above," Hermione added.

"Great. Can you imagine being surrounded by that many people?" Harry asked. "Anybody could curse you." Sal took a deep breath and rested a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Potter. . .no, Harry. Normally I would say that you might be a tad bit paranoid. . ."

"But?" Harry ventured.

". . .but, then I remember how many people have tried to kill you," Sal admitted. "You are wiser than you should be."

"Is that a good thing?" Harry asked.

"Not normally; but in your case, I would recommend just cursing everyone who looks at you wrong."

"Why?"

"You can always apologize for cursing people. You can never apologize for someone killing you. Moody taught me that one."

"I see."

"Oh, and I got a call from an old acquaintance of mine."

"You have a phone?" Hermione asked.

"Phones are faster than owls," Sal stated, "especially when the other person is in Monte Carlo." Harry's face dropped. "This is not the part where you go suspiciously quiet Potter. This is the part where all four of you look confused and say that you don't know what I'm talking about."

"We don't know what you're talking about," Ron said automatically.

"There it is," Sal stated. "Anyway, he called in a favor that I can't believe he remembered and ordered these for you." He reached behind the counter and came up with four vests. "He also says that I am to teach you everything you want to know about fist fighting, gun fighting, knife fighting, sword fighting, wand fighting and every other way that a monkey has ever ended another monkey."

"Guns are illegal," Hermione stated, clearly scandalized.

"So is killing someone," Sal stated. "Remember, judged by twelve rather than carried by six. People can only be mad at you if you survive. . .and then you can shoot them too and walk away."

"What's a gun?" Ron asked.

"It is a wonderful type of tool. I carried one called an L7 for six years including a few months on a God forsaken spit of Earth in the Atlantic for Queen and country," Sal answered happily, "and some bitch named Maggie."

"Sword fighting?" Harry pressed.

"When I was an auror they gave us swords as a symbol of authority," Sal stated. "It was ridiculous and the swords were about as sharp as a butter knife. So, pick your poison or mix and match. I will teach all four of you how to walk away from a fight or make sure that everyone goes with you. Sound good?" Harry glanced at the others.

"Maybe we could leave the guns out of it," Hermione stated. "We're trying really hard to minimize felonies."

"Minimize as in no felonies, no more felonies or few felonies?" Sal asked.

"Yes," Luna chirped.

"Oh so glad I skipped that teaching job."

(:ii:)

"Come in," Minerva called. The door to her office opened and a nervous looking pink haired woman walked in.

"Hello Professor," she stated.

"You are no longer a student Miss Tonks. You can call me Minerva."

"Okay Professor." Minerva fought the urge to roll her eyes. Appearances needed to be maintained even as Alastor snickered in the back corner of her office.

"Have a seat." The young auror sat. "What did you see?" The young woman's nervousness disappeared as she pulled out her notebook.

"Your students went directly from the castle to Sal's Magical Adventure Goods."

"Sal's?" Minerva repeated as she massaged her temples. This was not going to be good. "What on Earth were they doing there?"

"They spent several hours there before going to the Three Broomsticks," Tonks replied. "While there, I overhead them talking about having Sal make a new set of dress robes for Weasley."

"They went to Sal's to get dress robes?"

"Sal is a fairly well known tailor," Tonks commented.

"Of dragon skin vests for hit wizards and aurors!" Minerva snapped, "and chain mail suits for dragon handlers!"

"Pretty sure they call them armorers, not tailors," Alastor rasped, earning himself a glare.

"Gladrags makes dress robes, right?" Minerva demanded. "Wait. . .how long did you say they were there?"

"Several hours," Tonks stated.

"How long does it take for a wizard to get fitted for dress robes?" The both turned to Alastor and one of the man's scarred eyebrows rose.

"How the hell should I know?"

"What else does Sal sell?" Minerva asked.

"Everything," Tonks answered. "He sells, buys and trades everything legal and a few things that are questionable. Aurors recently went there to investigate after they found out that he was selling basilisk skin."

"Basilisk skin?" Minerva parroted.

"It's legal to own as long as you aren't trying to breed one of the damned things," Tonks stated with a shrug. "Sal was found to be within the law and the aurors left." She studied the older woman. "What does basilisk skin have to do with Potter and his friends?"

"They recently came into possession of a basilisk skin," Minerva stated.

"How?" Tonks demanded, her notebook rising.

"The old fashioned way," Alastor grunted in amusement.

"They bred it?" Tonks asked.

"They killed it," Minerva stated.

"Where did they find it?" Tonks demanded, causing Minerva to marvel at the young woman's change from nervous former student to investigating auror.

"The same place they found the last one apparently," Alastor answered. "Right here."

"What the hell has been going on here since I graduated?"

"We've had some difficulties," Minerva stated, glaring at the retired auror.

"No shit."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. So, as you may have noticed, this was not posted on the first of the month. The response to the last chapter was a little underwhelming, so I was wondering if posting on the first full weekend of the month would get the word out better. Does it? Let me know.

So, rough month in the good old US of A. Okay, okay, okay. . .so fuck it. We're funny here. Right? So, the Super Bowl happened. I don't give a fuck about football, but I will be fucked if I didn't laugh at those commercials. Dinklage vs. Freeman? Hell yeah! And then the Dirty Dancing thing. I literally sat there and laughed saying, "They aren't going to. . .oh. . .are they?" Turned out they did. I probably laughed for the rest of the game.

Also, so my brother wanted to impress his girlfriend's family by cooking for her birthday. My mom and I were tapped to help. He showed up hungover as hell. Let me let you in on this.

-Cynical Mom: Are you going to help?

-Cynical Brother: I don't feel good.

-Jack: You're hung over.

-Cynical Brother: So are you!

-Jack: But I ain't a bitch.

-Cynical Brother: Mom!

-Cynical Mom: Don't be a bitch. Your brother and I have cooking to do.

-Jack: Yup.

Drinks are poured. Sleeves are pushed up. Cooking commences.

-Cynical Brother: That's too much pepper. I don't like pepper.

-Jack: That's called seasoning. Now go play with the dog. We're cooking!

-Cynical Brother: Are you drunk? Are you drinking wine?

-Jack: Wine is what you drink when you're cooking! Unless it's steak. Then it's beer.

-Cynical Brother: Mom!

-Cynical Mom as she's pouring another glass: Why aren't you playing with the dog?

Dinner turned out fantastic.


	10. Chapter 10

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Ten

"Hello Mister Potter."

"Hello Madame Pomfrey." Poppy let that go for quite some time as the young man began inventorying supplies again.

"Did you have fun at Hogsmeade?"

"Well, a lot of people were staring at us, but other than that, we had a good time," Harry admitted.

"Yes, some of them were concerned about Hogwarts students in Hogsmeade when they weren't supposed to be there. A few have sent owls already." She heard Harry let out an annoyed sigh. "I heard that you went to Sal's?" The dark haired young man turned.

"You know Sal?"

"Where do you think I sold that venom?" Harry chuckled and turned back to his work. Poppy let him go again until her curiosity could not be contained.

"So, about your eye."

"I tripped," Harry stated.

"Ah," Poppy replied as she stared at the young man's swollen shut eye. "Young men your age are rather clumsy, I suppose. I had Mister Weasley in here not too long ago to fix a similar injury he incurred while walking into a door knob."

"Oh."

"And Miss Lovegood received a fat lip from. . .some. . .sort of creature. . .I think."

"That's weird, right?"

"I'm waiting on Miss Granger," Poppy said blankly.

"Oh."

"What did you get up to at Sal's?"

"Ron got some new dress robes for the dance."

"How long did that take?"

"A while," Harry admitted. "You know Sal, he's a perfectionist." The healer continued to stare at him, trying to force anything else out of the student. He continued to look suspiciously earnest.

"I see. Have a seat and I'll take care of that eye."

"Thanks." Poppy waved her wand carefully and nodded with satisfaction as the swelling subdued, though the discoloration remained.

"Could you teach me that one?"

"Are you going to use it on yourself and your friends so that I don't know when you pick up small injuries?" Poppy asked.

"Well. . ." Harry's eyes darted around for a moment before they met hers again and he shrugged. "Yes." Poppy let out a long sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Fine."

"Really?"

"I've seen enough foolish children ruin each other trying to cast simple healing charms so that they wouldn't have to come here and get in trouble," Poppy stated.

"Like what?" Harry asked curiously.

"Well, what Lockhart managed to do to your arm while trying to fix a pair of simple fractures was rather impressive," Poppy admitted. "Though, the prize probably goes to your mother. She managed to turn Sirius Black's head one hundred and eighty degrees."

"What was she trying to fix?"

"A stubbed toe."

"Oh." Somehow Harry was not surprised.

(:ii:)

Harry pushed the door to the Room and Requirement open and slipped in. "How was the infirmary?" Ron asked from his spot on the floor in front of a large map.

"Busy. We have to be careful. Madame Pomfrey was not amused by three of us showing up in one day."

"Well, we'll have to figure something out," Ron grunted. "I don't think Sal knows how to not try to kill the people he's trying to teach to not die."

"She did actually teach me a couple of spells for small injuries," Harry stated as he collapsed onto one of the couches next to Luna.

"That's. . .suspicious helpful," the blond admitted.

"She says that she's seen a lot of students make a mess of simple healing charms before," Harry explained.

"Makes sense," Ron commented. "Fred turned George blue one time while he was trying to fix a broken finger." Harry had to laugh at that. He glanced at Hermione and her perfect, unblemished face.

"You know, you never mentioned boxing lessons before."

"It never came up," Hermione replied with a shrug, then a wince that caused her to rub her shoulder. "I think I would have preferred judo about now."

"You flew like a blibbering humdinger," Luna chirped.

"How does a humdinger fly?" Ron asked.

"Apparently twenty feet through the air and headfirst into a wall," Harry stated solemnly. They made a full minute before they began laughing.

"Alright," Hermione finally interrupted. She handed each of them a dark green leaf. "We have exactly one month until a full moon. There's no real room for error."

"And what exactly can go wrong?" Harry asked, contemplating the leaf.

"We fail and have to start again," Hermione stated.

"Is that all?"

"It's all that can happen with the leaf," Hermione answered.

"What about after that?"

"You probably don't want to know."

"Probably." Harry put the leaf in his mouth. "One month and we can get started."

(:One Month Later:)

Neville leaned back in his favorite recliner and stared happily down at the book in his lap. "Hey Nev, you seen Ron?" Dean asked.

"Nope," Neville said simply.

"Did you see him and Harry whispering about something last night?" Dean pressed.

"I saw nothing." Neville opened the book to his bookmark and smiled.

"But you heard them, right?"

"I heard nothing." Life had gotten so simple after Neville had discovered the big secret. The portrait swung open and the schools deputy headmistress stormed in.

"Mister Longbottom!"

"Haven't seen them, haven't spoken to them, haven't heard from them Professor," Neville answered happily.

"Them who?" Minerva asked suspiciously.

"Harry, Ron, Hermione and Luna," Neville stated, somewhat annoyed. Why couldn't everyone else just get with the program?

"And why would you think that that was what I was about to ask?" Minerva demanded. Neville scowled and closed his book so he could turn his undivided attention on the woman.

"Why else would you come flying in here on a Saturday morning, calling my name?" he demanded. That caught the older woman short and she glanced around, desperately trying to regain her momentum.

"Has anyone seen those four?"

"I saw them at breakfast!" Colin called.

"Didn't they mention studying out by the lake?" Lavender asked.

"I thought they were in the library," Angelina wondered out loud.

"Weren't they going to the library then the lake?" Fred asked.

"Thought it was the other way around," George commented. Minerva scowled at the lot of them and stormed out. Neville opened his book and sighed. Why hadn't he just started completely ignoring those three, now four, earlier? They really had been nothing but trouble from the start.

(:ii:)

Some miles away, deep in the Forbidden Forrest two dogs, an otter and a hare were happily strutting through the woods at a leisurely pace. They paused and the smaller brown and white dog studied the area before nodding to the others. The larger black dog shrugged off the bag slung around it and the otter retrieved a container from inside. It carefully set about laying down a large circle of salt around itself before handing the container to the black dog. In a moment the otter was replaced by Hermione, her wand dancing rapidly as she tried to ward the area contained by the salt as quickly as possible. The black dog awkwardly set up a second circle around the other three animals and the hare was replaced by a small blond girl. She quickly mirrored Hermione's moves and nodded. The black dog was replaced by Harry and the brown and white dog by Ron.

"Anything?" Harry demanded, wand in his left hand and his right resting on the pommel of the Sword of Gryffindor.

"I don't see any movement," Ron answered, staring unblinkingly at the valley between the two cliff faces in front of them with his wand in hand.

"Hermione?" Harry ventured.

"Not now," the young woman grunted as she tucked away her wand and began tracing sigils in the dirt within the circle of salt.

"Okay." A halo of blue flame surrounded the girl's head.

"Get ready." Harry drew his sword and stood shoulder to shoulder with Ron and Luna. Hermione broke the circle with her toe and the blue flame burst forth into the space between the two cliffs. There was a momentary pull on all of them as the flame burst into in to a blue fireball and rose into the air in a spectacular mushroom.

"Oh," Harry managed.

"Neat!" Luna announced, snapping a couple of pictures.

"Neat," Ron repeated. Harry glanced at the redhead and frowned as he saw tears running down his cheeks.

"Ron?"

"That is the most beautiful thing I've ever seen," Ron sniffled.

"Now that was tiring," Hermione said. They turned towards the curly-haired woman and all three of their jaws dropped. "What?"

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. He licked two fingers and pinched out one of the still smoldering ends of Hermione's hair. Her eyes widened comically. "It's not that bad!" Harry said quickly. Hermione's response was cut off as Ron seized her in a massive bear hug.

"Thank you. This is the most incredible thing anyone has ever done for me."

"It's nothing," Hermione said, patting him on the back awkwardly.

"Alright, pull yourselves together. We still have to go in there and clear it," Harry interrupted.

"And loot!" Luna added.

"Loot?"

"Acromantula silk is worth. . ."

"Say no more!" Ron interrupted, happily producing a knife from somewhere. "Sal is going to have a heart attack."

(:ii:)

"Hello?" Sal called as he heard his door slam open. His four partners appeared from the aisles. "You guys are early."

"Not here for training," Ron stated. Sal frowned as he considered the grin on the redhead's face.

"I'm. . .not going to want to ask a lot of questions, am I?"

"Nope!"

"Okay," Sal agreed. He glanced at the other three. "Well, Hermione that's a nice. . .no. I'm sorry. That is not a nice new look. What the hell. . ."

"Can you cut hair?" the young woman interrupted.

"I may be familiar with. . ."

"Good," Hermione interrupted. "I had an accident."

"What kind of. . ."

"Didn't you say that you didn't want to ask a lot of questions?" Hermione demanded. Sal pondered those words for a moment.

"Okay. Anything else?"

"We have acromantula silk for sale," Ron stated, slamming a bag down on the counter.

"How much actromantula silk?" Sal asked.

"All of it."

(:ii:)

"We made it in time for dinner," Harry commented in shock. "I think I like this planning thing."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "Certainly beats the week in the infirmary we usually end up going through."

"Mister Potter!"

"Uh oh." Harry pasted a grin on his face as he spotted his head of house storming towards him. "Good evening Professor."

"Where have you been?" Minerva demanded.

"We were down by the lake," Harry stated.

"I circled the entire lake," Minerva snapped.

"Well, we were walking too. We must have missed each other."

"You were. . ." the woman trailed off as she stared at them. "Miss Granger?"

"I just felt like a change," Hermione said, touching her hair. It now ended at her jawline. "Do you like it?"

"It's very nice," Minerva stated awkwardly.

"So, dinner's starting Professor." Harry tried to shuffle around the confused looking woman.

"Why do all of you smell like smoke?" Harry froze and cautiously sniffed the collar of his robes.

"Huh. Well. . ."

"We're trying to quit," Luna announced

"Uh, yeah!" Ron agreed. "We know it's a bad habit, but school can be very stressful."

"Right," Hermione stated. "Harry was going to speak with Madame Pomfrey about it after dinner."

"I was."

"So you were all walking around the lake smoking," Minerva said slowly.

"Yes. We have to get to dinner Professor." They managed to make it halfway to the doors of the great hall.

"Mister Potter?"

"Yes?"

"The other two schools will be arriving this coming Friday, I trust you four will do nothing to embarrass this school in front of them."

"We would never embarrass this school," Harry snapped. He loved Hogwarts. The school had given him everything. Ron elbowed him in the ribs. "Sorry."

"Perhaps that was a poor choice of words on my part," Minerva stated. "Please do not cause any trouble."

"We don't cause trouble, trouble happens to us."

"I think that might be the first honest thing you've said to me today." The doors to the castle exploded open suddenly and Hagrid sprinted in.

"Hagrid?"

"Harry!" the giant man sobbed as he snatched Harry up in a bone crushing hug. "There was a fire in the Forbidden Forrest!"

"That's terrible," Harry stated, trying to pat the man on the back even though he could really only reach his forearm.

"I can't find Aragog and his family anywhere!"

"You don't think they got caught up in the fire do you?" Harry asked.

"I think they did."

"I'm so sorry Hagrid. He was such a nice giant, murderous, potentially man eating spider."

"I know," Hagrid sniffled.

(:ii:)

"They absolutely snuck into the Forbidden Forrest and burned down that colony of acromantulas," Minerva stated firmly. Poppy winced and glanced at Hagrid, who was sobbing as he tried to eat his pain away.

"Minerva, they are children," she stated. "And please, unless you can prove that, don't say that in front of Hagrid. That would destroy him, they're some of his best friends."

"They've killed more dangerous things," Minerva said.

"This is not a dangerous thing. This is a colony of dangerous things. How could they even do that?" Poppy asked. "They're barely teenagers."

"Age has never stopped them before," Minerva countered. "Mister Potter is famous for killing a dark lord as an infant." She frowned as she considered her own words. Yes. It all made sense. The signs had been there from the very beginning.

"Minerva this is ridiculous."

"Sounds right to me," Alastor grunted. Minerva rounded on the scarred man.

"You're their defense professor. You know what they're capable of!"

"They're capable of being studious," Alastor admitted with a shrug. "Potter's capable of resisting the Imperius. Now if Dumbledore would just let me make those kids start dueling each other, I might have a better idea."

"I'm busy enough even with Mister Potter continuing to help in the infirmary after his detention ended," Poppy growled.

"Don't know why they got rid of the dueling club," Alastor growled. "Only way you learn to curse someone is to curse them!"

"It's Defense Against the Dark Arts, Alastor," Albus stated with a long suffering sigh, "not Offense Against the Dark Arts. We are teaching the students to protect themselves, not fight wars."

"You're pretty protected after you curse an attacker through a wall," Alastor grumbled sullenly. "You're even more protected when you curse an attacker off a cliff." The other professors stared at the man. "In self-defense of course. Otherwise that would be murder, which aurors are not allowed to do. . .for some reason."

"We did bring back the dueling club a few years ago," Minerva admitted, desperate to change the topic.

"What happened?"

"Supposedly, Mister Malfoy summoned a snake to attack Mister Potter and Mister Potter apparently told the snake to attack Mister Malfoy." Alastor stared at the woman blankly for a moment before letting out a loud bark of laughter.

"God I love those kids!"

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. So, first time missing an update in the new year. Sorry. I don't even have an excuse. I was working on this before I even posted the last chapter. It was great! I was like: "Fuck yeah! Totally going to have a back log and I won't be stumbling along desperately trying to get a chapter out!" and then I got the writer's block. That sucked.

Anyway, so Harry is a big black dog animagus. Hear me out. James Potter was a stag. When I think stag, I think pride and arrogance. That doesn't really fit Harry, does it? I kind of think Harry and get bravery and loyalty. That strike me as a dog. Sirius may have cried a little when he found out. Might write a scene with it. Everyone else is their patronus.

So, family stories. Nobody ever told me that small children are ninjas. My niece scared the shit out of me and, according to my cousin, I made the most hilarious sounds while desperately trying not to curse. Then I found my nephew drinking my beer. The beer I had set down right in front of myself. . .with my hand on it. A straw may have been involved. Are all small children like that?

Also, I am apparently ready to have children according to my family.

-Cynical Niece: Can you teach me how to shoot?

-Jack: Ask your mother.

-Cynical Mom: Didn't even hesitate. You are ready.

-Jack: I have a niece and nephew. That is the perfect amount of kid. If I want to play with them, their parents throw them at me, we have fun, then I stuff them with chocolate and throw them back.

-Cynical Mom: *laughing hysterically*

Of course that led to my cousin coming up to me later. Look they're my cousin's kids, but they call me Uncle Jack, so they're my lovely nephew and lovely niece. That, and me and my cousin were raised closer than some siblings anyway.

-Cynical Cousin: Why did my six year old tell me that you told her to ask me if she could go shooting?

-Jack: Because I don't want to try to teach a six year old to shoot so I told her to ask you since you'd say no and then you'd be the villain.

-Cynical Cousin: Maybe I want her to learn to shoot.

-Jack: No you don't.

-Cynical Cousin: Well. . .maybe.

-Jack: No you don't. You'd be very pissed at me. Especially if she decided she liked it.

-Cynical Cousin: Damn it.

-Jack: Now go tell her you're saying no.

-Cynical Cousin: *grumbling* I already did.

-Jack: I know.

-Cynical Cousin: Wipe that smirk off your face.

-Jack: I can't. It's permanent.

Ain't family grand? Also, my family is having a run of prostate cancer, so. . .that's a thing. Gents, I know I'm probably the oldest one here, but get yourselves checked when the time comes.

Ass cancer is not funny. No matter how funny it sounds.

In addition, I've had a relapse in the family. Look, I know I harp on, but I'm a little bitter at having to deal with opiates in both my professional and personal life. Do yourself, your family, your friends, me and even your country a favor. Stay away from fucking drugs.

So, get your ass checked and stay off drugs. Yup. Starting to really sound like fanfiction's angry, drunk uncle.

-Jack


	11. Chapter 11

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Eleven

"This is kind of stupid," Harry grunted as he snuggled deeper into his cloak.

"Maybe they could have just come inside and we could have greeted them there when they arrived," Ron agreed. "Inside, where it's warm."

"You really aren't excited at all?" Parvati asked.

"A little," Harry allowed, "but mostly I'm cold and tired."

"When did you three get so jaded?"

"Are we jaded?" Harry asked, glancing at Hermione, Ron and Luna.

"Uh. . ." Ron managed.

"Quiet in the back!" Minerva snapped. She squinted at them. "Miss Lovegood?"

"Hello!"

"Why aren't you. . .never mind."

"Okay!" A low thrum filled the air and Harry stared, slack jawed, as a carriage being pulled by elephant-sized winged horses swept through the air.

"See, I'm not jaded. That's amazing!"

"Mister Potter!" The carriage landed with a crash that the gathered students could feel through the ground and the doors opened. Harry frowned as a troop of people in crimson climbed down.

"Those don't look like students."

"Oh, no," Hermione sighed. "Look at the last one." Harry squinted and felt a migraine growing as he recognized Sophie in her auror robes.

"Is that?"

"Yup," Ron stated.

"Really?"

"Yup," Hermione stated.

"Then who is babysitting Sirius?" Harry demanded.

"You know," Hermione began, "Sirius is a grown man. . ."

". . .who. . ." Harry interrupted.

". . .who managed to get himself arrested and throw in jail despite being innocent."

"Yup," Harry grunted.

"He really needs adult supervision."

"Yup."

(:ii:)

"My dear Madame Maxime," Albus announced. "Welcome to Hogwarts!"

"Dumbledore," the woman returned cheerfully. "I hope you are well."

"I am," Albus said. He glanced at the group of aurors that were helping the students from the other school out of their carriage. "I wasn't aware you would be bringing aurors."

"Really?" Olympe asked. "We spoke with your minister about it." Albus fought the urge to role his eyes.

"Ah, well Minister Fudge is a busy man," he said. "I'm sure he must have forgotten. May I ask why you brought aurors?"

"My government heard some disturbing rumors about basilisks, werewolves, trolls and your government deploying those dreadful dementors on the school's ground," Olympe stated. "They insisted that we bring extra security over my objections. Anyway, has Karkaroff arrived?"

"He should be along shortly," Albus stated. "Would you like to wait, or would you prefer to wait inside?"

"Inside would be best, I think."

"Of course."

(:ii:)

"What are we going to do about Sirius?" Harry grumbled as they walked up the stairs to the castle. "He's going to do something stupid, like come back here."

"Probably," Hermione agreed. "Ron? Ron!"

"What?" Ron yelped.

"You can ask Krum for an autograph later, we have bigger problems right now," Hermione said in annoyance.

"Right," Ron replied. "Sirius needs adult supervision."

"Correct."

"Harry!" Harry turned and saw Sophie making her way through the students like a wrecking ball. She grabbed him in a tight hug and a kissed his cheeks before moving on to Ron, Hermione and Luna.

"Who's babysitting Sirius right now?" Harry demanded.

"It's taken care of," Sophie replied happily. She turned and dragged a young woman dressed in Beauxbatons robes to them. "This is my sister, Amalie."

"Bon jour," Harry stated as he shook the girl's hand. "Enchantè. Mon nom est Harry."

"I speak English," Amalie stated.

"Oh, good. We're about at the end of my comprehensible, polite French. This is Ron, Hermione and Luna. Would you like to joins us for dinner?"

"Thank you." Harry led them to the Gryffindor table and they sat down as Sophie bubbled away about Hermione's new haircut.

"So, Sophie, who is watching him?"

"I have a plan," Sophie stated happily. "I'm going to use that Room of Requirement and follow in your footsteps every night."

"Please don't say things like that so loudly," Ron groaned, glancing around.

"We should go now and get you to the room," Harry said simply. "He might leave before you get back."

"He won't," Sophie countered. "I doubt he'll even wake up within the next two hours."

"How do you know?"

"I made sure he was absolutely exhausted before I left," Sophie said smugly. Harry stared at her suspiciously before his eyes widened. "I could give you a play by play."

"No."

"Really?"

"Sophie."

"Ok." They trailed off as Amalie shot to her feet. Harry glanced around and saw that the three headmasters had walked into the hall. The foreign headmasters took their seats and Amalie sat as well. Dumbledore gave a fairly quick welcoming speech and the food appeared.

"Finally."

"What is that?" Ron asked, prodding one of the newly arrived dishes.

"Bouillabaisse," Hermione stated.

"Bless you."

"It's French."

"Well, it can stay French," Ron stated.

"Excuse me," a new voice cut in. "Are you wanting ze bouillabaisse?" They all turned and stared at the newcomer. She was a young woman with silver blond hair. Ron turned and interest shade of magenta.

"Sure," he stuttered, pushing the plate towards her. "It was great." The woman took the bowl and turned away. "She's a veela."

"Of course she isn't," Hermione shot back.

"Well, not full blooded," Amalie corrected. "A half or a quarter, I think."

"See?" Ron countered. "She's. . ." he trailed off and they all stared at the younger French woman.

"I am so sorry," Hermione stated. "That was incredibly rude of us."

"My sister can have that effect on people," Amalie stated, dismissing their worry with a wave of her hand. "Now tell me about this mystery man you're so worried about."

"He's my godfather," Harry stated, an eyebrow rising as Sophie's face lost all color.

"More! I simply must know, since Sophie has yet to tell anyone she was dating," Amalie said happily, and possible a tad vindictively. "Father will be so curious."

"Allow me," Luna said happily.

"Uh," Harry began. "Actually, never mind. I want to see where this goes. Ron? Circle of silence please."

"Already done."

(:ii:)

"Has Mister Potter ever been to France?" Minerva asked as she studied her house table. Her most troubling students had put up a quick ward so that their lips couldn't be read. They had taken to doing that entirely too frequently for her peace of mind.

"Not to my knowledge," Albus replied. "Do you know anything about that auror, Olympe?"

"Her sister is currently in school," Olympe rumbled. "That's her, next to the blond."

"Has she ever been to England?"

"Perhaps. Though I do know of the Potter boy's mother. She came to Beauxbatons many years ago to work on a charm with some of the staff. Maybe that family kept in contact."

"I doubt it's that simple," Minerva replied. Albus let out a sigh.

"Minerva. . ."

"If I may, who told your government that we were having some. . .unusual problems?" Minerva interrupted.

"I do not know," Olympe admitted. "The head of the Magical Law Enforcement Department came to me personally and explained that I would be taking a contingent of aurors with me. Is there any truth to these stories?"

"The last few years have been troubling," Albus admitted.

"A basilisk?" Olympe gasped.

"Two of them," Minerva grumbled. The giant woman was speechless for a moment.

"I trust your government has taken care of the situation."

"They have made sure that there are no more basilisks on the schools grounds," Albus answered.

"And the dementors?" Olympe pushed.

"I'm sure the minister realized his mistake in that situation," Albus replied.

"Too bad he didn't realize it before they had attacked the students multiple times," Minerva growled.

"I'm sorry," Igor interrupted. "I heard about that fool and his dementors. . ."

"Igor," Albus groaned.

". . .but, basilisks?"

"And trolls supposedly," Olympe added.

"The situations have been handled," Albus said firmly. "I made sure that our esteemed minister was made quite aware of the problem with the dementors. The basilisks were similarly handled."

"I'm surprised I didn't hear about this," Igor admitted. "I keep a few old contacts in your government."

"The government wasn't the one who handled most of it," Minerva grumbled.

"Then who. . ." Olympe trailed off. "That boy. . .Potter?" She stared at the boy.

"Basilisks, trolls and dementors certainly seems like a list of his greatest hits," Minerva growled, "and acromantulas." Poppy elbowed the older woman in the ribs.

"Would you be offended if I asked my student not to fraternize with him?"

"To be fair," Minerva admitted. "The safest place in most situations does seem to be behind the lot of them."

"I see."

(:ii:)

"So his name is Sirius and he is an exiled socialite," Amalie stated.

"Well. . .yes," Harry stated.

"And he was exiled from this country for a crime he did not commit," Amalie continued. She looked like she was having trouble not laughing.

"Yes." Amalie turned to her sister.

"Really?"

"It's not. . .completely untrue," Sophie stated. She was staring into the distance, seemingly trying to follow the twists and turns that Luna had led their conversation along. "No, it is completely true."

"Exactly!" Luna announced.

"I feel like we went from point A to point B, but not in a straight line," Hermione commented.

"I find this all rather unlikely," Amalie stated.

"Story of my life," Harry grumbled as he finished his food. With the food gone, the head master rose again and began speaking. Harry tuned him out as the man went over the rules of the tournament. "The sooner this tournament is over, the happier I'll be."

"I take it you wouldn't apply even if you could?" Amalie asked.

"And you would?" Harry countered.

"I plan to."

"No," Sophie stated simply.

"It's my choice," Amalie argued. "I wouldn't be here if I wasn't planning to enter my name."

"You have no idea how dangerous this school is," Sophie growled. "There is a reason the government sent aurors here."

"It's not going to actually be dangerous. That's just something they're saying. . ."

"Take a close look at them," Sophie interrupted, pointing at Hermione. "They're students here." Amalie glanced at the younger woman and Harry saw her eyes lock onto the network of scars threading through Hermione's right eyebrow. She turned her stare on him and he tapped the scar running across his lips, incidentally revealing the scars and bruises across his knuckles. "Ron's nose used to actually be straight."

"Yeah," Ron sighed, rubbing his badly crooked nose and casually bringing attention to the scars and bruises on his own knuckles. "Those were the days."

"So, anyway, things are different at Hogwarts," Sophie stated.

"I see," Amalie stated.

"I think we're done," Harry stated, climbing to his feet. "It was nice meeting you Amalie, but Sophie has somewhere to be."

"Right. I just need to stop at a bathroom and change." She let that trail on for a moment. "Aren't you going to ask. . ."

"No," Ron said firmly, causing the woman to pout. "We'll see you tomorrow Amalie."

"Tomorrow then," Amalie agreed as she stood and followed after her classmates.

"Sophie?" Harry ventured as he led them out of the hall.

"Yes?"

"You know damn well that none of our injuries were caused by the school," Harry stated.

"Harry, you'll learn eventually, sometimes the best thing you can do to protect your family is lie to them. Like in fairy tales! You guys made pretty graphic examples."

"How come I couldn't be a graphic example?" Luna complained. Harry glanced at the girl and had to look away. There was just something inherently adorably hilarious about the girl's two black eyes.

"Just didn't get around to it," Sophie stated. She was trying to hold in her laugher as well. "You'd be a great graphic example Luna. By the way, have you thought about healing those scars? I'm guessing no magic was involved in their creation."

"Scars are a reminder of stupidity that could have gotten you killed," Ron stated.

"You know, saying things like that kind of moves you away from training to fight and into the cult zone," Sophie commented.

"Cults usually don't care if you're alive in the end," Harry replied.

"True, but you four are definitely starting to look like thugs."

"We aren't. . .are we thugs?"

"Well," Hermione began, "we. . .don't strangle people."

"See?" Harry demanded. "We aren't thugs."

"Yet," Luna added. Sophie just sighed and massaged her temples.

(:ii:)

Sirius sat up in his bed and look around. "God damn." He stretched and frowned as he looked out the window and saw only darkness. "How long have I been asleep and what did I do?" There was a thump at the linen closet and Sirius climb to his feet, gathering his sheet around himself. The door burst open and Sophie stepped into the room wearing a long coat and a grin.

"Sirius!" The coat hit the floor and Sirius's memory was jogged.

"Oh."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. I know, it's kind of short, but this is a pretty big moment in the story. I mean the next chapter will have Harry totally not getting voluntold to enter the tournament and he'll have to react to that. Heh. Did you know voluntold is in Microsoft word as a word? God damn. My people are everywhere. Semper fi you beautiful, stupid, Stockholmed mother fuckers. I love you.

So, real talk. I did something I haven't done in a long time. I got excited for a game. That game? It was Far Cry 5.

Now, there seems to be a fifty/fifty split with folks about how good the game is. What confuses me, is that people who love the game praise the bosses. People who hate the game don't mention the bosses. Now, as you might have figured, I don't like the bosses in that game. The thing is, they're boring and just kind of. . .well. . .miserable.

I've heard lots of people talk about how charismatic the bosses are. I just don't believe it. Vaas was charismatic. Pagan Min was charismatic. Hell, Hoyt was charismatic. The villains in 5 are not. People in the game treat them like they are, but they aren't. They're actually annoying. They grab you out of nowhere and you have to sit through a cut scene where they get very close to the screen and stare at you as they spout some religious nonsense. You know, in the other games, the villains were horrible people, but god damn were they entertaining. They made you want to kill them. The fifth game makes you want to kill them just so that you never have to deal with them again.

Seriously, I was in a cult. It was called the Marine Corps. I've dealt with actual charismatic leaders who manage to get you to do whatever they want you to do while you think that you want to do it. Hell, some of the guys who served under me might tell you that I was that guy.

I guess the best way to describe my Far Cry 5 experience is, I had fun until someone told me that the area boss was coming for me. Then I muted the television and read a book while occasionally pushing buttons. Eventually the game let me start having fun again. That never happened in the other games. In them, I sat through every boss cut scene because those lunatics were fun monsters.

And then there was the ending. Some people have sat there with a straight face and said that it all makes sense if you manage to hear one radio broadcast. I didn't hear that broadcast because I was too busy kamikaze-ing a plane into a base while parachuting out and destroying everyone left with the pig. Or, you know, how most people play a Far Cry game. Then other people try to justify the ending by saying you were on drugs at the time. That's just lazy. I mean, crazy, other worldly shit happens, only it didn't. . .because you were on drugs. This is absolutely what Dallas tried to pull in the eighties.

The other big problem was the player character. Jason Brody was an amazing protagonist. He had a thing called a character arc that you don't see a lot anymore. AJ was apparently supposed to be Jason Brody originally, but they changed his character because they were scared about a white boy showing up and fixing the natives' problems again. That's fair, I guess, but then AJ just turned out so bland that his race didn't actually matter at all, which might be some kind of accomplishment I guess. The rookie from 5 continues this de-evolution by being absolutely nothing. They have no character arc or even a character. They just kind of get shitted out into the world without a history and with a gun in their hand and run off to destroy. It's actually kind of insulting to add a character customization thing since you never even see them afterwards. Their whole characterization is male grunt or female grunt. At least Jason had fun.

Duke Nukem had more character and everyone agrees, at least nowadays, that that character was horrible.

So, there you go. Two for one I guess. A story chapter and a game review.

By God, please don't let Ace Combat 7 be bad. I love that series. I have an embarrassing amount of hours invested in 4, 5 and 0. I'm serious, I have one thousand hours in 5 alone. Not to show my age, but I rented 4 at a Block Busters and fell in love. The commercial for Unsung War led to my first pre order. After Assault Horizon, I can't take another bad Ace Combat. I mean, I bought the special edition Ace Combat 5 that came with joy sticks with money I saved up from a bullshit job working estate sales. I still have the War Dog patch. I play Ace Combat 5 to remind myself why I love videogames and will defend them as art. It is my soapbox. I would pay one hundred dollars just for a remastered Unsung War. Seriously, watch the trailers for 4, 5 and 0 on the you tube. Yeah, the games were that awesome and still are, especially if you're like me and don't really care about cutting edge graphics. Though, seriously, the graphics still look damn good.

So, 05/30/2018. That might not mean anything to you, but that date means I've been here for sixteen years. That's probably longer than most of my readers have been on this planet. Seriously, if you are younger than sixteen, I signed up for this site before you were born.

Sixteen years folks. Here's to sixteen more. Love you all and don't forget, DRINK!

-Your Loving, Drunken, Angry Uncle Jack.


	12. Chapter 12

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Twelve:

"Hello everyone!"

"Morning Amalie," Harry returned as the French girl sat next to him at the sparsely populated table. "Where's the rest of your school?"

"They're eating in the carriage," Amalie stated as she began loading her plate. "British food doesn't agree with them apparently. Anyway, you four are up rather early."

"We like to get an early start on the weekend," Ron stated. "You know, things to do, people to see, places to be."

"Indeed," Amalie agreed. They ate in companionable silence for a few moments. "My sister never showed up in that town the aurors are staying at."

"Is that a problem?"

"No, she has the day off," Amalie stated, "but she's with Sirius, isn't she?"

"Yeah," Harry stated. "Don't say that name."

"And where are they?"

"We spoke about this last night," Hermione interrupted. "He doesn't live in this country." Something about the way the girl was acting was setting Harry on edge.

"I want you to take me to her," Amalie stated.

"Why?"

"So I can mess with her of course!" Amalie announced.

"Is that normal?" Harry asked.

"Siblings messing with siblings?" Ron asked. Harry nodded. "You've met my brothers, haven't you, specifically the twins?"

"Oh, right," Harry stated.

"Only child?" Amalie asked.

"You don't know?" Hermione asked.

"The whole Vald. . .Vold. . .Villy. . ."

"Voldemort," Harry supplied, frowning as the few students within earshot turned and stared at him in shock. "Sorry."

"Really? That's a stupid name," Amalie said. "You British live in fear of a man with a name like that?" Harry gagged on his food and the French woman helpfully pounded on his back.

"No, we live in fear of a man who spent a few decades torturing and murdering people, who used that name" Ron corrected. Harry managed to finally draw breath and desperately tried to control his laughter. "What?"

"You have to admit, it is kind of a stupid name," Harry admitted. Ron pondered that and began eating to hide the smile threatening to spread across his face.

"Anyway, I know that Vol. . ." Harry waved her off and she rolled her eyes, ". . .that guy attacked you when you were a child and. . ." she trailed off awkwardly.

"Killed my parents," Harry supplied, "and then I survived the Killing Curse."

"Yeah. That's about it really. Anyway, you're a little less celebrity hero and a little more magical curiosity in France," Amalie explained.

"Huh." Harry leaned back. He had never thought about how other countries would view him. "So, if I walked down a street in France, no one would recognize me?"

"Probably not." Harry really liked the sound of that. "Anyway, we're being sidetracked. Now, about visiting him and my dear sister."

"What?" Harry asked, shaken out of his temporary dream of walking down a magical street with no whispers and no staring. "Oh. Right. We're not taking you. The trip is what you might want to call. . ."

Illegal!" Luna chirped. Harry rubbed his temples.

"Luna, we talked about this."

"But she's our friend," Luna protested.

"I was going to say dangerous to try to scare her," Harry grumbled, "but yes. The trip involves illegally traveling into a foreign country, thereby violating their sovereignty, which might be an act of war, maybe."

"We're still working on that," Hermione admitted. "At the very least, it's definitely illegal."

"Sounds like fun!" Amalie said happily.

"Yeah, a lot of things sounds fun until you do them and or get caught doing them," Harry grumbled. He stared at the woman. "You aren't going to let this drop, are you?"

"Of course not," Amalie stated. She leaned in closer. "After all, I know something that you don't want other people to know." Something clenched deep in Harry and his hand slipped as he cut a sausage. He took a deep breath and turned to stare at the woman. Her cheerful smile dropped in a moment.

"That would end very poorly for everyone involved," Harry stated as he met the girl's bright, blue eyes. He rested his hand on hers and squeezed a little harder than would be comfortable.

"Especially you," Luna said happily. "We would make sure."

"Luna," Hermione snapped.

"She's not wrong," Ron commented.

"No, she's not," Harry agreed. "You understand, don't you Amalie?"

"Yes," the French girl squeaked.

"Say it," Harry ordered quietly.

"I understand," Amalie stated.

"Good," Harry replied. He turned back to his food and began eating again.

"Your finger mate," Ron stated. Harry glanced down and stared at the blood running from his finger.

"Huh." A quick word and wand movement sealed the tiny wound. "Sirius is the only family I have." He glanced at Amalie and saw her scrubbing his blood off her hand. "You understand that, right?"

"Yes."

"Finish eating," Harry stated. "I guess we have places to be."

"I lost my appetite," Amalie stated as she finished removing the blood.

"Alright then, let's go."

(:ii:)

Sirius felt an eyebrow rise as his linen closet door burst open and five teenagers stumbled out. "Amalie, I presume?"

"Ca c'était quoi?" the new blond woman demanded, looking around herself wildly.

"We're still working on that," Hermione stated as she dusted herself off, "and English please."

"Where are we?" the blond demanded.

"Welcome to Monte Carlo!" Sirius announced. "I'll be your host, Sirius Black." Amalie stared at him blankly for a moment before running to the balcony doors and ripping the curtains open.

"We told you he wasn't in the country," Harry commented as he poured himself a generous glass from a decanter.

"Isn't it a little early?" Sirius asked.

"I've had a long day," Harry stated.

"Already?" Sirius pressed.

"Yes."

"Monte Carlo?" Amalie stuttered. The door to the room burst open and Amalie strutted in wearing a heavily modified and rather brief auror's robes while twirling a pair of handcuffs around her finger.

"Sirius Black! I've finally caught you. . .oh, hello everyone!" Harry finished his glass and poured another. "You caught us in the middle of a little game."

"Told you siblings like messing with siblings," Ron stated.

"That you did," Harry admitted as he took a large gulp from his glass.

(:ii:)

Harry sipped his cognac and stared out at the city from the balcony. Behind him the door opened and Sirius stepped out. He glanced at the four of them. "You guys. . .really scared the shit out of that young woman."

"Good," Harry grunted.

"That's no way to meet a nice young lady," Sirius stated as he filled a glass for himself and joined them at the railing.

"Neither is getting thrown in Azkaban with you," Harry stated. "Actually, you'd probably get kissed so, we'd be on our own."

"I really doubt she was being serious," Sirius stated.

"I really doubt she knew the seriousness of the situation," Ron countered. The man frowned and considered that as he sipped his drink. "She talks, thinking it's a joke, we all get felonies. My mother would kill me."

"The dementors might beat her to it," Sirius offered.

"I'm still more scared of my mother."

"Me too," Harry admitted.

"Fair enough," Sirius allowed. The door opened again and Sophie stepped out.

"She would like to have a word with you, Harry." Harry reached for the decanter to top off his glass and scowled as Sirius pulled it out of his reach. He started to move past Sophie, but she blocked his way. "Please, no more threatening my little sister's life. She's a pain in my ass, but she is family and I love her dearly."

"I never threatened her life."

"That was me!" Luna cheered. "Obliquely." Sophie glanced between the two of them. Harry just shrugged. The woman sighed and stepped aside. Harry stepped into the room and closed the door and curtains behind him.

"So."

"I'm sorry," Amalie said quickly. "I didn't understand how serious this situation was. I thought Sirius had just done something stupid. I didn't know he was an escaped felon with a price on his head."

"Now you do," Harry stated. The woman glanced around awkwardly.

"I would never have said anything either way," she stated. "I was just. . .I was playing around. I was messing with you. . .and my sister. Mostly my sister. Well, I mean, I was trying to mess with my sister and she got me."

"That's fine," Harry said, cutting off her rambling.

"No, it's not fine," Amalie countered. "I threatened the only family you had without even realizing it. I made a joke about sending him, you and all your friends to jail. I understand that now. I just want you to know, that I'm sorry." Harry sipped his glass as he pondered that. He noticed Amalie's stare wasn't focused on him.

"Sirius, Sophie or both?" he asked.

"Both," Amalie stated.

"About how high?" Harry pressed.

"About waist high," the woman answered. Harry pulled up a fist and slammed it against the door behind him. He heard a squawk of surprise and the sound of two people falling over themselves behind him. He turned to make sure the curtains were pulled more tightly. "So, as I said, I am truly sorry. Even if I didn't know how serious the situation was, I would never said anything to anyone."

"I. . .I believe you," Harry allowed.

"Forgive me?" Amalie asked. Harry took another drink and stared at his glass for a moment before meeting the woman's eyes.

"I do." He heard the door behind him creak open and turned to see Sirius poking his head into the room.

"So, you two kiss and make up?" Harry took a deep breath and flicked his wand at the door. It closed rather violently on Sirius's head and the man stumbled back with a yelp of pain. A moment later Sophie strode into the room.

"All better?" Harry glanced at Amalie and frowned as he noticed she was blushing rather spectacularly. She met his eyes and nodded.

"Yeah. We're all better."

"Good!" Sophie announced as she threw open the curtains. "Join us!" Harry and Amalie walked out to the balcony where Sirius was tentatively massaging his nose.

"Sorry, accidental magic."

"Sure," the man growled. "So, we've come up with a plan for the day!"

"What is it?" Harry asked.

"We're going to the store to buy you swimsuits and then we're going to spend the day at the beach!" Sophie chirped as she tapped Harry's glasses with her wand, causing the lenses to darken. Harry considered that.

"I've always wanted to go to a beach."

"You've never been to a beach?" Amalie asked in shock.

"No."

"How. . ."

"You two can chat about that later!" Sophie interrupted, "and after we're done there we can go to Le Salon Rose for dinner!"

"We'll probably need a raincheck for that one," Ron stated. "They're pulling the names for the tournament at dinner. We should probably be there."

"Yeah, McGonagall has gotten a little. . .punchy lately," Hermione agreed.

"Oh, then I guess we can just work on occlumency after the beach," Sophie said with a shrug.

"Yay," Harry grumbled.

(:ii:)

Harry rubbed his head to alleviate the fuzziness from the portkey. "So you four go to Monte Carlo every weekend." He turned and squinted at the blond behind him.

"Sometimes."

"And where are we now?" Amalie asked, looking around the massive space they had appeared in.

"We're in a friend's basement!" Luna announced. "This is where we bleed in training."

"For what?" Amalie asked, prodding one of the sweat and blood-stained mats on the ground with her toe.

"For whatever is going to try to kill Harry this year," Luna answered.

"What?"

"Don't worry about it," Harry cut in quickly. Sometimes you just knew an explanation was going to just lead to more questions. He led them up the stairs and out into the store. "Sal?"

"In the back!" Harry led the way to the counter. "Hey kids, how was Monte Car. . ." the man trailed off as he saw Amalie. "Hi! I'm Sal, just your normal everyday purveyor of goods. How did you kids get in. . ."

"She's Sophie's sister," Harry interrupted. "She's staying at the castle and she went with us to visit Sirius."

"Oh!" Sal relaxed back into his chair. "Here about the silk?"

"Did you finish measuring it?" Hermione asked. The man grinned and pulled a tray with five glasses on it from behind the desk.

"One second." He found a sixth and filled it.

"That much?" Ron ventured.

"More." They all toasted and sipped. "We're a fair bit past a million galleons here."

"For silk?" Amalie gasped.

"Well, when it's acromantula. . ." Sal trailed off. "She knew about the acromantulas, right?" Harry silently shook his head and sipped his drink. "Anyway, to future endeavors!" They all drank.

"Maybe lay off the whiskey?" Ron ventured. "You drank a lot already."

"I have."

"So!" Sal announced loudly. "Obviously, even with the profits from the. . ." he trailed off and glanced at Amalie.

"Basilisk skin," Harry stated, ignoring the French woman's stare.

"Ok. . .even with the profits from the basilisk skin, I can't afford that upfront, same deal?"

"What is acromantula silk good for?" Hermione asked.

"It's fire proof," Luna announced.

"Yeah," Ron said with a chuckle. "I guess it would have to be after what Hermione did."

"What did she do?" Amalie asked.

"Something with fire," Hermione stated noncommittally.

"Something with a lot of fire," Ron corrected.

"Fire proof, stronger than steel, light weight, water proof, really. . .very comfortable actually," Sal reeled off. "Cloaks? Four cloaks and forty percent of the profits?"

"Forty-one," Harry countered just to show he would.

"Forty two," Sal stated.

"Sounds good," Harry said. "We'll see you next weekend Sal."

"See you then," Sal returned. They finished their drinks and Harry led them out of the store through a side door and into the alleys of Hogsmeade.

"Where did you find a basilisk skin and acromantula silk?" Amalie demanded.

"On a basilisk and in the ruins of an acromantula colony, respectively," Hermione said primly. "We'd prefer you didn't mention any of that."

"Of course."

(:ii:)

"Sobering up, Harry?"

"Shut up," Harry grunted, his forehead still firmly planted on the table. His headache was developing into something truly spectacular that was not at all helped by the three schools talking in the Great Hall.

"We told you that you were drinking too much."

"I was rather stressed out."

"I'm sorry," Amalie offered, patting the younger man's shoulder. Harry grunted again. "Your head master is standing." Harry pulled his head up and squinted at the old man.

"Well, the goblet is almost ready to make its decision," Albus announced. Harry tuned the man out and buried his head in his arms. At least everyone had shut up so the head master could speak.

"They're announcing the names," Ron whispered.

"Let them," Harry growled. He peaked up as Albus caught a piece of paper.

"The champion for Durmstrang will be Viktor Krum!" Harry tried to squeeze his ears shut as everyone began applauding.

"You didn't put your name in, did you?" he asked, trying to distract himself.

"It was my choice if I did or did not," Amalie stated.

"True," Harry agreed.

"The champion for Beauxbatons is Fleur Delacour!" Harry patted Amalie's hand as her shoulders slumped.

"It's for the best."

"That's the veela girl," Ron commented. Harry glanced at the woman as she walked towards the table. She was indeed the astonishingly beautiful woman from last night.

"One more and I can go to bed."

"You know," Hermione stated, sounding like she was trying to hide her amusement, "this is actually very exciting, Harry."

"For you," Harry grunted. "Although, it will be fun to watch some other shmuck risk his life for a change."

"That's certainly an interesting way of looking at the situation," Amalie commented. Harry just shrugged. He doubted it would actually be too bad. The head masters probably lacked the imagination for real death traps.

"The Hogwarts champion is Cedric Diggory!" Harry puffed out a breath he hadn't realized he had been holding even as the cheering from Hufflepuff's table caused his head to explode into pain.

"You know," Hermione began, "I actually kind of thought. . ."

"Yeah," Ron agreed, looking about as relieved as Harry felt. "It's stupid, but I really did think that Harry's name was going to come out."

"Me too," Harry managed with a weak laugh.

"Why would you think that?" Amalie asked.

"Things tend to happen in this school," Ron answered.

"Usually to Harry," Luna added helpfully.

"Yes, usually to Harry," Harry agreed. "I'm going to bed." He glanced up at the table where Albus was staring at the goblet. Another piece of paper shot out. "No." The old man caught the paper and read it. "No, no, no."

"Harry Potter!"

"Mother fucker, no!" Harry shot to his feet, wand in hand and a powerful blasting curse already building up as he aimed it at the goblet.

"Get him!" Ron yelled.

(:ii:)

Minerva watched in detached horror as most of her house piled on the screaming Harry Potter. The curse he had built up was discharged into the ceiling, where it sent several hundred pounds of rock raining down on the Slytherin table. Student from two schools ran screaming for safety.

"Somebody break his fucking arm!" the youngest male Weasley's voice screamed from somewhere under the mass of students.

"Ok!" Luna's voice chirped happily. There was a sickening series of pops and a pained shriek, but the young Potter kept fighting.

"Well done Head Master," Poppy said finally. "You've finally driven Mister Potter completely insane. You must be so proud of yourself." The woman climbed to her feet. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go knock out my assistant, drag him to the infirmary and see just how much you broke him and whether or not I can put him back together." Minerva watched the woman storm off before turning to her boss.

"Albus?"

"Yes?" Albus asked, still sounding shocked.

"Did the Goblet of Fire just put four people into a three person contest?"

"What is the meaning of this Dumbledore?" Olympe demanded.

"If it is quite alright with you," Albus began, "may we hold the meeting with the champions until tomorrow?"

"Do you really think this will be sorted out by then?" Igor asked.

"No, but Harry may be sorted out enough to answer some questions by then," Albus stated.

"Like why he almost killed my students?" Igor ventured.

"Maybe."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken ramblings. Oh. . .My. . .God! Harry got into the Tri-Wizard Tournament! Can you believe it? Bet you didn't see that coming. Also, Harry and Ron said bad words! Oh my, the humanity. Think of the children! This is a PG-13 now. I think. I can't remember how many fucks you're allowed to get away with in PG-13 movies anymore. Not that most people give any fucks in PG-13 movies since they're usually watered down R rated movies trying to make a buck off teens. Remember, in America, horrific violence is okay as long as nobody curses and there are no boobies. Bad words and boobies are an affront to moral standards. They make God sad. Even though God created them if your beliefs swing that way. Speaking of which, some dude left a massive rambling religious rant in a review. Did anyone else see that? Boy is he barking up the wrong drunk agnostic. I'm a little less Jesus saves and a little more save yourselves. What's it smart Churchy folks say? God helps those who help themselves. Yeah. Maybe stop praying for a better life and get out there and do some work. Just my thoughts on it of course. What do I know? I'm an asshole on the internet.

Also, if your children are sick, take them to the fucking hospital and pray there maybe. Sorry, little bitter about a run in with a kid with a one hundred plus degree fever whose parents said that they'd just pray it away. Turns out CPS can't really do anything about that.

Anyway, I'm not going to lie. For a while there I think this story could have been rated K, but the author's ramblings will pretty much always be M.

So, funny stories, I got one, but it ain't family. Have you ever run into an internet guy in real life? I have. . .I think. Now, this story takes place in a bar and I had been drinking, weird huh? Now, this might shock you even more, but I talk a lot when I've been drinking. I know, I've never brought this affliction up before. Anyway, this time, my victim of talking was a very pretty college lady. To my shock, she was apparently having a good time talking to me. This might shock you as well, but I tell a lot of stories when I'm talking and some people have even accused me of being entertaining. Anyway, she went to the bathroom and a relatively large, young bull moose, alpha male type grabbed me by the shoulder.

-Alpha Male: Hey you cuck.

-Jack: It's pronounce "cock", dude.

-Alpha Male: What?

-Jack: Cock, dude. And don't just say cock. Cock isn't funny. . .*drunken giggle*. . .ok, cock is totally funny by itself, but it's funnier when you add words. You know: cock head, cock bite, cock sucker, cock holster, cock skinner. . .actually that sounds better as dick skinner. . ."

-Alpha Male: No, I'm calling you a cuck!

-Jack: What accent is that?

-Alpha Male: You're a cuck! It means. . .

-Jack: I don't care what it means. You're old enough to drink. If you're going to curse at someone, use real curse words, dude. Hey, you know, if you're good, you can absolutely insult someone without cursing.

-Alpha Male: What?

-Jack: Sure! Watch this. Your mother is such a lovely woman, that if she had known how embarrassing you would turn out, she would have totally let your father stick it in her butt.

-Alpha Male: You fuck!

Jack is absolutely saved from getting punched in the face by his friend the Bouncer, who I have told you about before, showing up and grabbing the kid.

-Alpha Male as he's being dragged out: Did you hear what he said to me?

-Bouncer: Yeah, he said your mother was a lovely woman.

-Alpha Male: You stay the fuck away from my girl!

The college lady comes back and sees the alpha male being dragged out.

-Lady: What the fuck was that?

-Jack: I think your boyfriend got the wrong idea.

-Lady: I don't have a boyfriend.

:Lady's Friend: That kid you have one class with called you his girl.

-Lady: What? Who?

-Lady's Friend: That kid who sits behind you in psychology.

-Lady: What? Hey, what are you doing?

-Jack: I'm looking up "cuck" because that's what he called me. That's probably with a u and not some kind of accented o, right?

-Lady's Friend: Wouldn't that be "cook"?

-Lady: What does google say?

-Jack: Google says that cuck means that my girlfriend is cheating on me. What?

-Lady: What?

-Lady's Friend: What?

-Bartender: You have a girlfriend, Jack?

So, anyway. I learned that cuck actually is an insult. . .mostly on the internet where people for some reason don't use actual curse words and make up new ones. You know. . .like middle schoolers.

Yeah. That was an odd night and I have no shame in admitting that my buddy the Bouncer saved me from getting punched in the mouth by a dumbass again.

Maybe I should quit college bars and sign up for the American Legion like my dad keeps telling me to. Hey, drinks are cheap and at least in the American Legion people stop shit talking after I explain that I am actually a vet instead of the son of a vet like my dad.

Although, I am very sick of having every old person tell me how much tougher the military was in their day.

Look, my generation gets a lot of shit, but our entire military is volunteer and we've fought the longest war this country has every experienced with about as little support from the civvies as can be. A little respect please.

Also, if every old man who told me they were on Suribachi was really there, just out of camera view of course, then that entire fucking mountain was crawling with Marines and corpsmen and the odd soldier and airman or two. Yes, I know that airman didn't exist until after the war. Military folks have never let the truth stand in the way of a good story since the days of the ancient Greeks.

On that topic, I was drinking with a couple of guys and everyone started showing off their tattoos.

-Old Guy: I've got you all beat! *pulls up his sleeve to show off an Eagle, Globe and Anchor*

-Jack: I've got you about beat.

-Old Guy: You?

-Jack: Me. *pulls up sleeve to show Eagle, Globe and Anchor tattoo*

-Old Guy: Hey! Semper Fi!

-Jack: Semper Fi.

Then we were bestest friends forever and took a shot together.

Yeah, the Corps is weird. The Corps is also eternal.

In the end there will be cockroaches, Keith Richards and Marines doing stupid things to themselves and each other and sticking EGAs on everything everywhere. Seriously, keep your eyes peeled. EGAs are literally everywhere. If you don't see at least one a day, you aren't paying attention, yes, that includes you non-Americans. Just because you aren't in America doesn't mean that there aren't American Marines running around your country. And yes, when we send folks to Mars, they will find a crude EGA carved into a rock. As well as a "Killroy was here", "Wagner loves the cock", "Stay Woke" and a crude drawing of a dick. We are everywhere and nowhere. Both the first and the last. We are Schrodinger's motards.

-Love, Your Uncle Jack


	13. Chapter 13

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Thirteen:

Harry groaned as he pried an eyelid open. He glanced around his surroundings and found himself staring at the school's healer. "What happened?"

"What do you remember Mister Potter?" Poppy asked. Harry frowned as he considered that. What did he remember?

"Wait, did I get signed up for that fucking tournament?"

"Yes." Poppy rested a hand on his shoulder to push him back down and Harry noticed that she had her wand drawn. "Calm down please Mister Potter."

"What happened?" Harry demanded. Poppy pushed him back down again.

"You attacked the teachers," she stated. "Please stay calm Mister Potter."

"I didn't enter that damn thing," Harry stated.

"I believe you," Poppy said peaceably. "Please stay calm Harry." Harry considered the woman's use of his name and forced himself to relax.

"I tried to attack the teachers?"

"Well, that's what some think. I think you tried to attack the Goblet of Fire." Harry felt something deep inside clench at the mere mention of that damned cup and he tried to sit up.

"No," Poppy ordered, pushing him back down and holding him. "Breathe Harry." Harry breathed and felt something ease off his shoulders.

"I didn't enter the tournament."

"I know," Poppy allowed peaceably. Harry sat up and she didn't try to stop him. "I had to chase away all your friends, if you're wondering, including that young French woman."

"Amalie," Harry stated as he swung his feet off the bed. He frowned as he rubbed his left arm. It felt oddly numb, a sensation he now acquainted with certain healing spells. "Did something happen to my arm?"

"Yes," Poppy stated plainly. "Miss Lovegood hyper extended your elbow, dislocated both your shoulder and your wrist and broke a few fingers in an attempt to make you drop your wand."

"Oh." Harry flexed his arm experimentally. "She really likes to joint locks, especially small joints."

"Duly noted. Fortunately that did make you drop your wand and they managed to wrestle it away while you tried to grab it with your other hand before Miss Lovegood could work on your right arm," Poppy commented, "and since when do you cast left handed?"

"It's a recent thing," Harry admitted.

"You just decided to try casting left handed?" Poppy asked suspiciously. "You decided so hard that your left hand is your choice in a stressful situation?"

"Sure, let's go with that," Harry agreed. "So, this looks really bad, doesn't it?"

"Oh yeah," Poppy replied. "Now, you are going to tell me everything you did yesterday, so that I can try to convince the head masters that you aren't an attempted spree killed."

"I was relaxing with my friends," Harry stated earnestly. He really had been. He just didn't want to mention where.

"That's not good enough Mister Potter." Harry's mind raced.

"It's the truth," he stated. "It really is. I was relaxing with my friends yesterday. It was great. We spent the entire day just laying out and enjoying the sun."

"I see," Poppy said.

"So, what's wrong with me?"

"I'm going to have a specialist come in and speak with you," Poppy admitted. "I'm a school healer, not a psychiatric specialist. So. . ." She turned and a pretty young woman poked her head in. "This Healer Rathbone."

"Hello!" the woman chirped with a bright smile. "You can call my Angelica."

"She's a specialist from St. Mungo's."

"I was hoping we could have a little talk," Angelica added as she dragged a chair over. "Does that sound ok?"

"Sure," Harry stated, eying the woman suspiciously. She smiled as amiably as she could. "That sounds nice."

"Excellent!"

(:ii:)

Poppy stared impatiently at the clock as she waited in her office. Finally there was a knock at her door. "Come in." Angelica pushed the door open and walked into the office. "How bad is it?" Angelica took a deep breath and blew it out as she sat down across from the school healer.

"Bad. Since I'm here as a favor to you and not actually to diagnose, I can kind of shoot from the hip and I can ignore the fact that we don't really diagnose teenagers with personality disorders. I'm seeing signs of Bi-Polar Disorder, narcissistic personality disorder, maybe schizophrenia," Angelica admitted. "He is clinically paranoid. He's displaying delusions of grandeur. From what you described to me, he just suffered a violent manic episode that he has almost no memory of." Poppy's breath rushed out of her like she had been punched in the chest and she leaned back in her chair. "Has he confessed these conspiracy theories about someone setting him up to die in the Tri Wizard Tournament and his delusions about how You Know Who has tried to kill him twice since that monster died?" Poppy stared at the woman and felt a glimmer of hope.

"That actually happened."

"What?" Angelica asked blankly.

"Well, I mean the last two," Poppy admitted. "A professor was. . .something with the Former Dark Lord in Harry's first year. He attacked Harry and Harry burned him alive. . .somehow. In his second year some sort of shadow of the man was in a diary and was using a basilisk to attack students. Harry destroyed the diary and killed the basilisk." Angelica stared at her with her jaw hanging open. "It's been a rough few years." The younger woman took a moment to compose herself.

"And his third year?" she demanded in disbelief.

"He was attacked by the dementors the ministry sent specifically to protect him from Sirius Black on numerous occasions." Poppy answered. Angelica stared at her like she was expecting the older woman to suddenly crack a smile. She did not.

"God," the younger woman finally gasped. "Dementor attacks with his history?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case, he's a perfectly well adjusted young man," Angelica stated. "Actually, he's better than I would have thought he could be after those incidents."

"So, what do you think about his outburst?" Poppy pressed.

"Maybe it was a sudden onset, acute episode of an underlying mental illness," Angelica replied with a shrug. "The onset is usually more gradual, but it's not unknown to happen and I saw no signs of violence while I was speaking with him."

"What could have caused it?" Poppy asked.

"Well, excessive stress is common. Has he. . ."

"Yes," Popp interrupted.

"Ok," Angelica drawled. "Lack of sleep. . ."

"Probably," Poppy interrupted again.

"I see," Angelica replied. "Well, the occlumency training definitely did not help."

"Occlumency training?" Poppy demanded.

"You haven't noticed how he never meets anyone's eyes?"

"Mister Potter had a. . .rough childhood, I don't think he ever meets anyone's eyes without a good reason."

"Let's put a pin in that childhood," Angelica stated. "He spent that entire conversation faking meeting my eyes. They never left my cheek bones. That is a sign of. . ."

"Someone learning occlumency," Poppy agreed in annoyance.

"So I take it that Mad Eye didn't push to include occlumency in the curriculum this year?" Poppy's eyes narrowed.

"Not that I know of," she growled. She was going to have words with that man. Who else would teach a fourth year student occlumency? "So what do I tell the headmasters?"

"There is always a chance of a reoccurrence," Angelic said weakly.

"What do I tell them that doesn't get him expelled?"

"As I said, I'm not here to diagnose."

"But?" Poppy was getting ready to curse the woman if she didn't say something useful.

"Tincture of wolf's bane has been shown to help in similar situations," Angelica said finally and Poppy stopped fidgeting with her wand. "Also, maybe try to reduce his levels of stress. Maybe less dark lords, giant murder snakes and terrifying monsters that force him to relive his worst life experiences."

"I'll see what I can do," Poppy said dryly.

(:ii:)

"Let me do the talking." Harry glanced at the woman walking next to him as they approached the headmaster's door. "Remember, no matter what, just relax. We're going to take care of this."

"This is the sixth time you've told me to just relax," Harry stated, "at least, since I started counting anyway."

"Well. . .its good advice," Poppy said awkwardly as the gargoyle stepped aside. They both hesitated as they were assaulted by an enraged man's screaming. "Oh. . .good. Lucius is here."

"That boy attacked my son!" the man roared as they walked into the office.

"No I didn't," Harry stated as he glanced around the office, absently noting Snape and Moody standing in a back corner. The blond man spun and his jaw dropped as he saw Harry.

"You!"

"Me," Harry agreed. Poppy elbowed him in the shoulder.

"I'll see you expelled!"

"Lucius, please calm down," Albus stated. "How are you feeling, Harry?"

"Much better," Harry stated.

"Mister Potter was simply suffering from a disease," Poppy stated. "We believe that we have successfully treated him."

"Wonderful!" Albus announced happily.

"He tried to kill my son!" Harry snickered and Poppy elbowed him again.

"What?" Harry demanded. He turned on the blond man. "If I wanted Malfoy dead, he'd be dead and there isn't a damn thing any of you could do to stop me."

"I doubt you'd find it so easy," Lucius sneered.

"And I doubt you'd stop me without a dozen of your friends in masks behind you," Harry sneered right back. Poppy pinched the bridge of her nose as Moody let out a horrifying bark of laughter.

"Take your medicine," she ordered.

"But. . ."

"Now!" Harry obediently pulled out the bottle she had given him and took a swig. "I'm very sorry Mister Malfoy. Harry is adjusting to his medication and there are some side effects."

"This isn't over," Lucius growled, finally overcoming his shock, and stalking towards the door.

"I'm not that lucky," Harry agreed as he turned casually, never letting the man get his back. The gargoyle stepped back into the door way and Harry turned to the headmaster.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Poppy growled.

"That was not wise," Albus said after a moment. "Lucius still wields considerable power. He is not a man to antagonize needlessly."

"We'll have to speak with him or make a comment to the Daily Prophet before he does," Poppy stated. "Maybe portraying Harry as a tragic hero traumatized by the many and continued attempts to kill. . ."

"Could you speak with Minerva and handle that situation, please?" Albus interrupted.

"You don't think that you're better suited Head Master?" Poppy asked.

"I don't think we have time for diplomacy," Albus stated with a sigh. "You and Minerva have always been better with threats. Make my position clear for me, please."

"Of course Head Master," Poppy stated. She rounded on Harry. "And you!"

"Yes?" Poppy's face twisted as she seemed to be torn between half a dozen orders.

"Just relax." She turned and stalked out of the room, the gargoyle diving out of her way.

"Harry?" Harry turned back to the older man.

"Yes, Professor?"

"I have to ask," Albus said carefully. "Did you enter the tournament?" Harry felt like he had been punched in the stomach.

"You have to ask me that after all this?" he demanded. "I've been doing everything in my power to keep people away from that damned thing!"

"To better your own chances, I suspect," Snape said. Harry turned slowly and glared at the man. The teacher fought hard not to take a step back. Severus remember the last time he had seen rage flash in a pair of eyes so similar to those. He remembered when a stupid, poorly chosen insult had escaped his lips. He remembered a shooting pain in his groin from a foot and a life time of regret from a lost friendship with a wonderful woman.

"To minimize casualties," Harry corrected. "Wouldn't a year without grievously injured students be nice?" Moody snickered.

"I believe you," Albus stated. Harry turned back to the man.

"How could this happen?" he asked. "It doesn't even make sense. That damned cup put four people into a three-person tournament."

"I've been thinking about that," Moody commented. "Whoever did this must have secured your name, written willingly by your own hand and entered it into the cup under a fourth school."

"That would still involve putting four schools into a three school contest, Alastor," Albus argued.

"Obviously they must have entered Potter under a fourth school and used a powerful confundus charm on the cup to make it forget that there were only supposed to be three," Moody stated.

"Obviously," Snape stated dryly.

"A confundus more powerful than a student could deliver?" Harry asked.

"I could almost guarantee that," Moody stated.

"How could they have gotten my signature?" Harry asked. He stared at the one-eyed man. There was something about the confidence the man spoke with that was causing the hairs on his neck to stand. He pulled out his bottle and took another quick drink.

"Perhaps you should be more careful with your autograph," Snape sneered.

"Severus," Albus groaned. Harry just stared at his least favorite teacher in shock.

"He's right."

"What?" Albus and Snape asked blankly.

"We have to sign our own homework," Harry said slowly, the pieces falling into place. "What happens to our homework after it's graded?" The three older men stared at him.

"Are you suggesting that a teacher has done this?" Albus asked.

"Teachers have tried to kill me before," Harry snapped. "Twice! A third one tried to wipe my memories." They continued to stare at him for a long moment before Moody let out a bark of laughter.

"Constant vigilance."

"Head Master?" one of the portraits interrupted. "Mister Potter's friends are outside the office and I believe they may be getting ready to destroy the gargoyle."

"I see," Albus stated. "You should go to your friends Harry; however, we will have to meet with the other schools tonight after dinner to discuss this."

"Yes Professor." Harry turned and walked towards the gargoyle. It quickly leapt to the side to reveal Ron with his wand raised.

"Oh. Alright, Harry?" the redhead asked as he lowered his wand.

"No, but I'm alive."

"For the moment," Luna added.

"Luna," Hermione growled.

"She's not wrong," Harry stated as he stepped out of the office. He glanced at Amalie in surprise.

"What?" the blond asked.

"Nothing," Harry said quickly. "We need to talk."

"Usual place?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah."

(:ii:)

"This is bullshit!" Hermione snapped as she stormed back and forth across the comfortable lounge the Room of Requirement had created. "They can't expect you to actually compete."

"Maybe it's Snape," Ron stated. That brought the brunette to a crashing halt.

"Maybe," Harry offered. Hermione massaged her temples and let out an aggravated shriek.

"Honestly," she said finally. "It's never been Snape, it's not Snape, it's never going to be Snape! Being a prick doesn't mean he's trying to kill Harry.""

"You. . .can't prove that," Harry argued weakly despite the feeling that her words gave him.

"You think a teacher is behind this?" Amalie asked. "You think a teacher would try to kill you?"

"It's happened before," Hermione admitted.

"Twice," Harry said.

"Only once for me," Hermione added, "and that was an accident."

"I only had a teacher try to wipe my memories," Ron commented. Amalie stared at them in shock before turning to Luna.

"Not yet," she stated happily.

"You're hanging with the right crowd," Ron muttered.

"Wow. I'm starting to really feel that I dodged a bullet here," Amalie stated.

"Sophie warned you," Hermione replied.

"Look, I thought this was a school, not a seven year test of your ability to survive," Amalie grumbled. Harry thought back to his school days before Hogwarts.

"Isn't that all schools?"

"Yeah," Hermione agreed.

"Maybe," Amalie allowed after a moment. "They just usually aren't this blatant."

"I'd argue that point," Hermione stated.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. The room went dead silent for a moment.

"Does Sophie know what happened?" Harry asked.

"Uh. . .yes?" Amalie admitted.

"Would she tell Sirius knowing that he would try to come storming back here?" Harry asked. Amalie stared at him for a moment as she pondered her response.

"She would not," the blonde said finally. "However, I don't think she would think of him storming back. . .and she's a massive gossip, which might take precedent."

"Well," Harry said blankly, "field trip."

(:ii:)

Sirius leapt to his feet as his linen closet exploded open and the full menagerie of students flew out. "Harry."

"Hey, Sirius," the younger man stood and brushed himself off.

"Sophie just told me what happened," Sirius stated, glancing at the blonde woman. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Harry stated. "Are you okay?"

"I'm. . .fine," Sirius said in confusion.

"For now!" Luna announced.

"What?" Sirius asked blankly.

"So, Sirius," Harry stated as he absently stretched his shoulders, "do you want to know something neat I learned in the infirmary?"

"Okay," Sirius answered after a moment of consideration.

"It turns out that magic can heal any injury caused by non-magical trauma short of amputation and traumatic brain injury," Harry explained. "Isn't that neat?"

"I am feeling vaguely threatened."

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry countered. "I'm not threatening you. I am actually doing the exact opposite. I am going to save you by keeping you out of the UK. I am going to do this by breaking your legs and arms." Sirius scowled and rose to his feet. No school boy was going to threaten him!

"I think you're underestimating your task," he growled as he cracked his knuckles. Harry grinned and Sirius cursed his decision to call Sal as the last Potter's fingers began to twitch. "Just so you know, I'm older and more experienced."

"I think you're half right." Sirius pondered that and came to the disturbing conclusion that his god son was probably right.

"Now, now boys!" Sophie cut in. "Sirius isn't going back to the UK."

"I'm not?" Sirius asked.

"Of course you're not!" Sophie stated cheerfully. "You're not going because you know that I am professionally trained in rendering victims helpless, unlike Harry who is simply an enthusiastic amateur."

"Don't you mean criminals?" Sirius ventured.

"Those too!" Sirius studied the grinning woman and his grinning godson.

"I guess Harry can handle this."

"Of course I can," Harry replied. "I've handled worse."

"I am. . .very disturbed by that comment and the fact that it is potentially true."

(:ii:)

Lucius stared at his son as he contemplated his words. "Can you kill Potter?"

"Of course I can," Draco stated. "I'm a Malfoy!" Lucius considered those words. He had said something similar decades ago and he had believed it too. At least, he had until he had run into a man he had believed could kill him with a glance. He remembered the confident smirk on the surviving Potter's face and the way the young man had turned to face him as he walked by. He had seen that kind of confidence before. He had seen that same nonverbal dare, but without the grin.

"I said "kill", not beat," Lucius stated. That caused his son to lean back in shock and gave the older man the answer he needed. "I want you to stay away from Potter."

"Father. . ."

"You will listen to me Draco!" Lucius snapped. "You are not ready yet."

"He's nothing!" Draco protested.

"He's enough."

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. Bam. Another on time update and. . .ah fucking fuck, I just jinxed the shit out of myself. Goddamnit.

So, I know I went full hipster last time I talked about videogames, what with the whole "I hate this new game and love this ancient game most of you haven't heard of," thing. Anyway, I found a new. . .ish game that I've pretty much lost my mind over. It even has a sequel coming out.

That game is 2016 Doom. Yes, I know it came out two years ago. I don't have a lot of money to spend of videogames. Sue me. Then I will have less money for videogames.

If you like shooters and haven't played it, do it. You will not understand how much shooters have lost until you rediscover it.

Personally, I was late to the Halo train. While X-box folks were freaking out over that, I was playing games like Project Snowblind and Half Life on the PS2. I won't get into the console argument, but I will say that two of those games had weapon wheels full of fun guns, large maps and health bars that don't come back. I kind of thought nothing was going to change when the next gen hit and I was playing Resistance. Yup, another game with large maps, weapon wheels and no regenerating health. Then mother fucking Call of Duty swept in like an A bomb and then Resistance 2 dropped with a limit on guns and small linear environments.

I still remember playing it. They said "here's a pistol with remote detonation rounds and a rifle with a grenade launcher" and I said "fucking sweet!" Then I found another gun and the game told me that I would have to give up Mister Boom or Mister Fuck You to get the new gun and it all fell to shit for me.

That is not how sequels are supposed to fucking work.

I think I've said this before. I don't understand folks who demand realistic military shooters. I was in the real military. It sucked. I had one gun I wasn't allowed to shoot for the most part and walked pretty much everywhere. I want to run around like a lunatic and get bored and whip out the missile launcher that I didn't get rid of because I ran out of ammo the last time I got bored.

So, yeah. In Doom you run around like a lunatic with a double barrel shotgun and a chainsaw and a Big Fucking Gun. You are expected to, you will die if you don't and it is awesome.

The panic you feel when your armor is gone and you have ten health is real. If you try to hide and get your health back, the legions of hell will find you and they will end you. Unless you end them first. . .with a chainsaw.

It is perfect. In other games you see a distorted monster screaming at you in the distance and say "Oh shit! Run!" In Doom you see a literal demon from hell screaming at you in the distance and say "Oh shit! Don't you run! The further I chase you the worse it will be!" And then there are thirty more demons and the metal kicks in and everyone is screaming. Ten minutes later the demons are all dead, the metal is gone and you realize that you were screaming too and all is right in the world.

In conclusion, I like Doom 2016. Please don't Resistance 2 it.


	14. Chapter 14

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Fourteen:

"Hello?"

"Hey Sal," Harry called as he stepped into the shop from its basement. He led his friends through the stacks and found the man at his usual place.

"So, you had an interesting night."

"You heard," Harry grunted.

"Yeah, ran into a couple of French aurors at the Three Broomsticks," Sal admitted. "They said some unfavorable things and we had a. . .spirited debate."

"How many did you hurt?" Harry asked with a groan.

"Most of them," Sal admitted.

"How many were in the bar?" Harry pressed.

"No, I mean most of the aurors the French sent," Sal stated. "The ones at the bar sent for reinforcements."

"You beat up almost thirty aurors?" Amalie demanded. "I find that hard to believe. The French aurors are some of the best in the world."

"Exactly, aurors," Sal stated. "They're all kind of useless in a close range bar brawl after a few drinks. They did pretty good though. One of them even gave me this! Bet she was muggle born. I have never seen a single magical ever throw a punch. . .at least one that actually mattered." Harry had been wondering about the grinning man's black eye. None of them had managed to land such a hit, even at four on one. "Anyway, I'm just finishing up your cloaks. You're a little early."

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "We had to take care of some business."

"Sirius?" Sal asked.

"Yup."

"Is he coming back?"

"Not if he knows what's good for him," Harry grumbled, absently cracking his knuckles.

"Good enough for me!" Sal cheered. "Now, if you'll excuse me, it's getting towards dinner and I think most of those aurors should be healed by now. Hopefully, they learned something."

"Not to insult Harry?" Amalie ventured.

"Well, I guess. I was kind of hoping they had learned how to throw a punch from that lady."

"We should get back too." Harry led his friends through their usual side entrance and on to the Hogwarts grounds. "Well that went pretty. , ,"

"Mister Potter!"

"Oh, God damn it," Harry grumbled as he pasted a smile on his face and turned to face the head of his house. "Hello Professor McGonagall."

"What have you done?" the woman asked.

"Uh. . ." Harry glanced at his friends but received puzzled looks in response. "What do you think I've done?"

"The tournament, Mister Potter!" The realization that one of the professors he respected the most didn't believe him hit Harry like a truck. She hadn't even asked like Dumbledore had. He felt something deep inside him drop, leaving him empty.

"You think I put my name in the cup?" he asked in a daze. A boiling hot sensation rose to fill the emptiness inside him. "You think I put my name in the fucking cup?" he roared. A hand wrapped around his wrist and twisted, causing his upper body to lunge forward.

"Bye Professor!" Luna called as she shoved Harry past the woman and towards the castle.

"Let go of me!"

"Nope!" He gave an experimental tug at his arm and pain shot through his shoulder.

"Okay." He was pushed into the school's entry hall and released. "What the hell was that, Luna?" Harry demanded, turning on the small blond.

"The last time you made that face I had to do terrible things to. . .your entire left arm!" Luna chirped.

"You missed a few fingers and all long bones," Harry grunted, for lack of anything better to say as he rubbed his shoulder.

"I can't break long bones yet," Luna said with a pout. "Anyway, you haven't had lunch so I thought you'd prefer dinner to being with Madame Pompfrey."

"I guess that's true."

"Drink your medicine," Ron ordered. Harry dragged the bottle out of his pocket even as the red mist that had arisen started to fade. He took a sip and felt the last vestiges of his rage flow out. "Better?"

"Better," Harry agreed. "Thank you Luna and don't worry, you'll be snapping long bones soon."

"You know," Amalie announced, drawing all their attention. "Sometimes I think you guys are normal. . .and then you say things like that."

"Well. . ." Hermione began, ". . .you know, I have no idea where I was going with that."

"Neither do I," Harry admitted.

"I was kind of curious though," Ron added. Harry frowned as he noticed one of his oldest friends staring at him.

"What?"

"What is your medicine?" Hermione asked.

"It's tincture of wolfs bane," Harry stated. The look on the young woman's face gave him pause. "Is something wrong?"

"They gave you booze?" Hermione demanded. Harry pulled out his flask and studied it.

"I guess."

"When this year is done, you are coming with me to London and meeting a psychiatrist!" Hermione snapped. "Then you will be on drugs like every normal person on Earth."

"If they're normal, why are they on drugs?" Harry ventured.

"What's are drugs?" Ron added. Hermione glared at them and stormed into the Great Hall. Harry, Ron and Luna bumped knuckles.

"Was that wise?" Amalie asked.

"No, but it was fun," Harry stated.

"Something to be savored," Ron added.

(:ii:)

After dinner Harry found himself walking out of the Great Hall and running into his head of house and his fellow Hogwarts Champion. "I realized that I didn't get to tell you where the headmasters were meeting, Mister Potter," Minerva stated. "Follow me." Harry fell into step behind the woman. It took him some time to notice that his fellow champion was glancing at him out of the corner of his eye.

"What?"

"Sorry," Cedric stated with a laugh. "I was just thinking that I should have put money down on you getting dragged into this." Harry glared at his fellow student before the boy's words hit him.

"Wait, you don't believe I put my name in the cup?"

"Did you?" Cedric ventured.

"No!"

"Good enough for me," Cedric stated. They continued on for a few moments in silence.

"You believe me?"

"I believed you," Cedric corrected, "you just confirmed it." Harry stared at the boy blankly and the Hufflepuff champion chuckled.

"Why do you believe me?" Harry asked suspiciously. Oddly, the fact that someone beyond his circle of friends believed him made him even more worried. "You don't know me."

"I know enough," Cedric stated simply. "I know I thought you were the Heir of Slytherin and to my great embarrassment, you ended up saving us from them. I also know Abby Wrath."

"Who?" Harry asked in confusion.

"She's a Hufflepuff first year," Cedric stated. "She fell down the moving stairs her second or third day and broke her arm. I checked on her because first years can be easily embarrassed, especially muggle born first years. Do you want to know what she told me?"

"What?" Harry asked.

"She told me that the great Harry Potter had told her that he had fallen down those stairs himself," Cedric explained. Harry tried to remember, but the sheer number of patients made their individual stories a blur. "You don't remember?"

"Maybe," Harry stated. "Anyway, I might have fallen down those stairs."

"I would have heard," Cedric stated. The continued on in more comfortable silence as they were led to the head master's office. Harry stepped through the doorway and took in the crowd assembled inside.

"Good evening Head Master."

"Good evening Mister Potter," Albus returned courteously.

"Has everything been cleared up?"

"It has," Albus stated. Harry let out a sigh of relief. "You have to compete."

"What?" Harry asked reflexively.

"You have to. . ." Harry silenced the man with a raised hand as he rooted through his pocket for his flask. He took a long pull.

"Sorry about that. What?"

"You have to compete," Albus said simply.

"Why?" Harry demanded simply. "Nobody here wants me to compete. I don't want to compete. I want to be on the sidelines and laugh while you lot try to kill these idiots." He glanced back at the other champions. "No offense."

"None taken," Cedric stated. The other two just look rather confused.

"What kind of competition do you think this is?" Igor demanded.

"The kind where you come up with deathtraps for them to survive," Harry said blankly. "Why, what kind of competition do you think this is?"

"This is a competition to see which student best embodies what it means to be a wizard or witch as taught by their school," Olympe stated.

"Which you will do by putting them through deathtraps," Harry added. "I mean, it's not like you're planning on having them create a new charm or brew a master level potion."

"You'd be surprised how often master level potions lead to dead laymen, Potter," Snape stated.

"Fair enough," Harry replied, before realizing who had spoken and glaring at the man. A glare that was returned in kind. "As I was saying, you all seem. . .relatively nice so I doubt any of you have any experience with deathtraps, but all the same, I'd like to not participate."

"I'm sure Karkaroff might argue that point," Alastor stated.

"Alastor!" Albus boomed, causing everyone to take a step back in surprise. "I will not have you insult me guests. Do you understand?"

"Yes Head Master." Harry put a mental pin in that comment for later investigation.

"So," he began, breaking the silence that fallen over the office. "Why do I have to compete?"

"When you. . ." Harry's eyebrow twiched rather violently and his fingered his flask. "When the piece of paper with your name on it was placed in the goblet. You were entered into a binding magical contract." Harry glanced at the other champions and noticed that they all had a similar expression.

"I take it you didn't know you were entering a magical contract?" he ventured.

"I did not," Cedric answered, "and I'm not crazy about that." Harry turned back to the head masters.

"You can be entered into a binding magical contract without your knowledge?" he asked in confusion.

"When your name is written willingly by your own hand," Albus explained.

"What are the consequences of breaking a binding magical contract?" Harry frowned as everyone present shifted uncomfortably.

"They're not good Mister Potter," Albus stated simply.

"I see."

(:ii:)

Harry pushed the door of the Room and Requirement open and stepped into a warm sitting room. "Did you get everything cleared up?" Hermione asked.

"Yep," Harry grunted.

"Good."

"I'm competing."

"What?" the brunette shrieked.

"So, the goblet was a binding magical contract," Harry stated as he collapsed onto a couch next to Amalie and poured himself a glass from the bottle on the table. The blond woman patted his shoulder comfortingly. "The consequences for breaking the contract are, apparently, not good."

"They really aren't," Hermione admitted. "What were they thinking?"

"Apparently entering someone into a binding magical contract is an extreme taboo that most wizards and witches would never even think of."

"It is," Ron agreed. "That's disgusting. Whoever did it is. . .something."

"I think most of my enemies are something," Harry grunted.

"It disturbs me greatly that someone your age has enemies," Amalie commented.

"You're less than four years older than me," Harry stated as he sipped his drink.

"And I have bullies, not enemies," Amalie replied.

"When is the first event?" Hermione interrupted.

"November," Harry answered. "I have a lot of work to do."

"We have a lot of work to do," Luna corrected. Harry glanced at the blond and she grinned at something over his left shoulder. He glanced at the others and they nodded grimly, including Amalie to his surprise.

"You know we're in competing schools, right?"

"Well, to be fair, most of the people in my school are assholes."

"Fair enough."

(:ii:)

Alastor scowled as he stalked through the halls of Hogwarts. He hadn't received a dressing down like the headmaster had given him in years. "And it took less than a dozen words," he grumbled.

"Oh, hello Alastor." It took all of the man's willpower not to jump.

"Hello Poppy." He turned to face her. "Everything alright?"

"Not really," the school healer stated.

"Anything I can help with?" Alastor did not like the look on the woman's face, not one bit.

"I was hoping you'd ask," Poppy said sweetly, her tone at complete contrast to her expression. "Let's have a nice long talk about how inappropriate it is to teach a fourth year student occlumency." Alastor stared at the woman blankly.

"What?"

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's drunken rambling. So. . .missed an update. Yeah. I was asking for that one, bragging about how I hadn't missed one for a while. Then I threw up this. Sorry. I finished this right before posting and I'm too drunk and too short timed to proof read it. I have work in six hours. Sheesh.

So, I started a new job recently-ish. I am working a lot of hours because I have very expensive hobbies. Guns and ammo ain't cheap. I will say that it's brute manual labor with a group of good guys, so that's good. I've also reached the point where I'm comfortable enough there to give my coworkers shit, so that's fun.

I'm wracking my brain for entertaining stories, but I'm drawing a blank at the moment. Sorry about that.


	15. Chapter 15

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Fifteen:

Harry sipped his scotch and stared at the fire merrily burning away in the fireplace. Next to him Luna was giving Ron a surprising run at chess. Hermione was pacing angrily and muttering to herself. Amalie was. . .Harry frowned as he glanced at the blond next to him. She glanced up from her book. "What?"

"Sophie wouldn't run to Sirius again, would she?" Amalie's eyes widened.

"Look," she began finally, "I would love to say that my sister learns from her mistakes. . ."

"But?" Harry ventured.

"She has wrecked fifteen brooms and three cars in her life," Amalie stated, "and none of them were in the line of duty." Harry let out a long sigh and finished his glass.

"I'll be right back."

(:ii:)

"So, the goblet was a magical contract?" Sophie asked.

"Yep," her partner grunted. "Apparently, none of the kids knew that. Does that sound kind of shady to you?"

"Certainly not illegal, but certainly not ethical," Sophie agreed.

"Right up your alley, eh?" Victor emptied his beer and held up a hand for another.

"I am not ethnically dubious!" Sophie snapped imperiously. "I am morally questionable." Victor snorted.

"We're both too drunk to argue justice, ethics and morality right now."

"You just know you'll lose," Sophie chirped. Her grin dropped in a second as her muddled mind managed to kick out a thought for consideration. "Wait, if the cup was a contract, then Harry has to compete. He can't say no without some rather unpleasant effects."

"Yep," Victor stated. "I confirmed with Olympe. Your little boyfriend competes or faces the consequences."

"Don't be jealous sweety," Sophie stated, patting the man's cheek. "Young Harry didn't take me from you, it was his roguish and legal-aged god father."

"Who you won't tell about this, right?" a voiced added in English.

"Of course!" Sophie cheered. Then she spun and stared at the black cloaked figure that had somehow sidled up beside her at the bar without her notice.

"Harry?"

"Harry?" Victor parroted. "Hogwarts Harry?" The figure's hooded head lifted slightly as he took a drink from the glass in front of him.

"If I don't say, you can't tell anyone with true certainty," Harry stated.

"Just so you know," Sophie growled, "you only snuck up on me because this is my tenth beer." She frowned as she considered his presence. "Amalie! That little bitch told you that I was stupid enough to go tell Sirius what happened despite knowing what would happen."

"I actually breached the subject." Sophie pouted.

"She must have called me irresponsible."

"Ah, the cutting barbs of those who know us best," Victor commented, easily following the conversation into English. "How cruel." Sophie glared at the man.

"Well, she didn't say those exact words, but she did mention a number of brooms and cars."

"Those were in the line of duty," Sophie said immediately.

"No they weren't." Sophie was really trying not to punch her partner. "Cars though? I didn't know you had a driver's license."

"I don't," Sophie grunted, "anymore at least."

"So, no telling Sirius until we're all ready, right?" Harry pressed.

"Right," Sophie growled, already thinking of ways to get back at her sister.

"Good." Sophie turned back and frowned as the cloaked figure was gone, leaving only an empty glass and a few coins on the bar. They both looked around for him.

"How old is he?" Victor demanded.

"Uh. . .fifteen?" Sophie ventured.

"We just got ghosted by fifteen year old?"

"You got ghosted by a fifteen year old," Sophie corrected. "I'm just going to pretend this never happened."

"Wise choice," Victor allowed, killing his beer and ordering another. "That was creepy though. What the hell are they teaching kids at Hogwarts?"

"I think he's an exception," Sophie stated.

"You sound a little unsure."

"I've only met four Hogwarts students," Sophie admitted.

"Were the other three like him?"

"Actually. . .yes." Victor let out a sigh.

"Remind me to change my bet tomorrow."

"Where's your national pride?" Sophie demanded. "I heard the Delacour girl is an excellent witch."

"Excellent student," Victor corrected. "Pretty big difference between a student and a witch or wizard. As for my pride, that little English spook took it with him when he slipped out. I guess I should have seen that coming. I mean, there's a reason we're here right?"

"We are not here because of the Hogwarts students."

"Then why are we here?"

"We're here because of what those students killed," Sophie stated, "and the fact that our government didn't think our students could do the same."

"Definitely changing my bet."

(:ii:)

The next day found Harry being accosted at the breakfast table by a woman who was quickly becoming the bane of his existence. "The weighing of the wands?" he repeated.

"It had to be postponed due to your. . .episode," Minerva stated. Harry glanced at Hermione, but the young woman shrugged. "It is just an inspection to make sure that your wand is in working order, Potter."

"I have to give my wand to someone?"

"For a few moments," Minerva answered. "It will not leave your sight." Harry glanced at his friends and rose to his feet, again falling into step behind the professor next to his fellow champion.

"Just keeps getting better, eh?"

"It's just for a minute or two," Cedric replied, clearly amused by the situation.

"A lot can happen in a minute," Harry grumbled.

"I somehow doubt that you would be ill prepared for any of it, even without a wand." Harry glanced at the other student and felt his lips twitch towards a smile. "Relax, Harry. I'm sure everyone is still too scared of you to try anything after you almost killed the entirety of Slytherin house. . .and a completely unrelated school."

"Almost killed," Harry snorted. "I've almost been killed. None of them were even hurt. They'll be lucky if that's the closest they ever get to being in real danger before they die. Besides, the sooner you realize that you can and will die, the longer you'll live." Cedric hesitated for a moment as he considered that.

"I guess that's true."

"You're learning," Harry stated. He noticed Minerva glancing back at him. "What?"

"Nothing." They arrived at a doorway and Harry and Cedric stepped through into the room beyond.

"Ah, Potter, Diggory!" A familiar man announced as he leapt to his feet.

"Uh. . ."

"Bagman," Cedric hissed.

"Hello Mister Bagman," Harry stated as he studied the other people in the room. A woman with large glassed came skittering towards him.

"Mister Potter!"

"Hello," Harry replied.

"This is Rita Skeeter," Bagman stated.

"He knows who I am, darling!" Rita chirped. "I was hoping to have a few quick words with you."

"Uh. . ." Harry glanced at Cedric.

"She's a reporter from the Daily Prophet," the boy whispered as best he could.

"Oh."

"So about that interview?"

"I guess. . ." Whatever Harry was thinking was wiped out as he saw Cedric's eyebrows rise. Before he could say anything, the woman seized his arm and dragged him into a small room. She bodily shoved him on the other side of the small desk in the room and sat down. Harry watched curiously as she set a green quill down on a piece of paper. "What is that?"

"Just something to make the interview go a little smoother," Rita said. Harry was about to ask further questions, but she cut him off. "So, Mister Potter, is it true that you tried to murder half the school?" Harry watched as the pill danced furiously.

"As I sit across from the man, staring into the emerald eyes of madness," he read.

"Oh, just ignore that," Rita stated.

"So, does it say what you think, what you see or what is?" Harry asked. The quill danced again. "The man continues to deny his role in the attack." He reached out and picked up the quill. "Curious thing." He snapped it in half and climbed to his feet. "Have a nice day."

"You don't want me as an enemy, Potter," Rita stated, her cheery façade slipping for the first time. "I will turn the public on you in ways you can't even imagine."

"No. You don't want me as your enemy," Harry corrected. The woman stared at him for a moment as if waiting for him to continue. Harry just raised an eyebrow.

"As threats go, you really need to work on that, Potter," Rita stated.

"It wasn't a threat," Harry stated. "If you want a threat, I guess you could ask around. Plenty of people here will tell you what happens to my enemies." Rita's face split into a wide grin.

"Now that's more like it!" Harry opened the door and stepped out.

"Reporters, they're all insane."

"That was quick," Cedric commented.

"Clash of personalities," Harry stated as he dropped the quill. The older boy stared at him in shock for a moment before he began laughing.

"Come on." Harry followed him as he led him up a flight of stairs to where the other champions were waiting.

"Ollivander?"

"We've been waiting on you two," the old man stated.

"Sorry," Cedric said cheerfully. "Skeeter grabbed Harry and I didn't want to leave him totally alone."

"I see. Your wand?" Cedric handed over his wand and Harry casually slipped his own wand into his hand as the old man examined the magical item. "Mister Potter?" Harry handed over his wand. The old man snatched his wrist instead and Harry's right hand slipped into his robes. "Most interesting." Ollivander pushed up Harry's sleeve and stared at the holster strapped to his forearm. "I don't suppose you'd ask the manufacturer to send me an owl. I would love to carry these in my shop."

"I'll ask."

"Thank you." Ollivander released Harry's wrist and Harry tried to casually slide his right hand back out of his robes. The old man took his wand. "Oh, yes. I remember this wand." Harry's jaw tightened as he caught sight of Rita out of the corner of his eye. She seemed to be practically vibrating with excitement.

"Just a good wand, right?" he asked. Ollivander look up and studied him for a long moment.

"I don't make "just good wands" Mister Potter." Harry felt a momentary spark of shame, but it was quickly washed away. As long of the old man kept the wand's past to himself, he could be as offended as he wanted. "Holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches. A curious wand for curious times. . .perhaps."

"I don't think so," Harry replied. The old man waved the wand and a burst of crimson sparks emitted from the wand. Harry took his wand back and it disappeared back into his sleeve. The old man chuckled and nodded.

"And now pictures!" Rita announced. Harry was steered into a group with the champions and headmasters.

"Potter!" the photographer snapped, "stop lurking in the back!"

"No, it's perfect," Rita announced. "Try to look shadier and more intimidating." Harry stared at the woman in irritation. "Perfect!"

(:ii:)

"Skeeter?" Ron asked. "Yeah, I know her. Literary hit man. Anyone with a little power hates her. She destroys careers to further her own. She gets lucky one in a hundred and uncovers something serious. She has a rabid fanbase of stupid people."

"That doesn't sound so bad," Hermione stated. "I mean, she's doing some good, right?"

"Does it count when it's by accident?" Harry ventured.

"You are seriously underestimating the number of stupid people," Ron grumbled, "and what stupid people can justify doing when they're egged on." Harry leaned back in his chair. He did not like that.

"She ever cause violence?"

"Not that they have proven," Ron replied. "Nobody seems to like to mention the threats that the judges in charge of the cases received."

"Marvelous." Harry considered that. He glanced at his friends. "Do they have reporters like that in France?"

"Thinking of moving to a civilized country?" Amalie asked. "Hate to tell you, I don't think there are any places without reporters like that." Harry sighed. Fame had just taken yet another down turn. He saw Luna perk up and glanced at the Marauder's Map.

(:ii:)

Alastor frowned as he walked down the hallway. There was something gnawing at the corners of his mind. "Hello Professor." Alastor's head snapped up and he stared at the person who had appeared in the hallway in front of him.

"Potter."

"Good evening."

"Everything al. . ." Alastor trailed off. The last time he had asked that question had not ended well.

"Why would Karkaroff know about death traps?" Harry asked.

"Well," Alastor began, "I don't want to speak ill of the other headmasters. . ."

"At least not after the last time you did," Harry interrupted. Alastor smirked. This was actually fun. "What do you know about him Professor."

"He has more in common with Snape than you might think." Alastor watched in amusement as Harry's head tilted contemplatively. The young man's eyes widened subtlety.

"Oh. I see. Thank you, Professor."

"Anytime Potter."

(:ii:)

Igor stared down at the copy of the rules of the Tri-Wizard Tournament on his desk and scowled. The competition had been running for centuries. Why were there no rules or precedents for fourth students? A knock interrupted his studies and his scowl deepened. He ahd made it quite clear to his students that he was to remain undisturbed unless the direst circumstances occurred. Considering that he couldn't hear any explosions or screams, those circumstances had not happened. "Enter!" The door creaked open and Igor looked up to find himself staring into a pair of violently emerald eyes. "You!"

"Me," Harry replied as he sat comfortably in one of the chairs in front of Igor's desk.

"How did you get in here?" Igor snarled.

"I walked," Harry answered. "There aren't any rules about champions meeting with the headmasters of opposing schools. My friend checked."

"As have I," Igor replied, setting down the ancients scrolls he had been studying. "What do you want Potter?"

"You're a Death Eater," the young man stated.

"I was," Igor corrected.

"Funny how most of you were Death Eaters until Voldemort vanished," Harry commented. Igor's virulent retort came up short as he considered the student's words.

"You don't think the Dark Lord is dead?" he demanded.

"I've run into him a few too many times since he died to think that he's dead," Harry replied. "Now, onto more important matters."

"More important than the Dark Lord continuing to live?" Igor asked.

"I think so," Harry said. "Are you trying to kill me?"

"What?" Igor asked blankly.

"Are you trying to kill me," Harry said calmly. "Did you enter me into this tournament?"

"Why would I try to kill you?" Igor demanded.

"Because you're a Death Eater," Harry answered.

"I was!" Igor snapped.

"Yeah, just like a few other people who've tried to kill me." Igor studied the young man. There was something about him that worried the older man.

"I am not a Death Eater."

"Convince me."

"I owe you nothing," Igor growled.

"Your organization killed my parents," Harry said calmly. "You owe me an answer at the very least." Igor leaned back in his chair as he considered that.

"I joined an organization that I thought would protect the purity of the magical world," he said slowly.

"And you just walked away."

"I did not," Igor admitted. "I was loyal to my goals beyond the end of the Dark Lord."

"You were?" Harry pressed.

"I was," Igor confirmed. "I was loyal to that idea until I became a teacher. While I taught my students, I realized that purity was secondary to strength. By shunning half of my students, I was failing the magical world far more than when I wanted to see the non-pure removed. When I became the headmaster of Durmstrang, I made it my goal to strengthen the magical world by instructing all magical students to the best of my abilities. Only by making the magical world stronger can we save it. Strength has nothing to do with the purity of blood and everything to do with individual drive and ability. I will encourage that drive until my dying breath." The young man stared at him unblinkingly for a long moment.

"I believe you," Harry said finally. "I don't know why, but I do." The boy climbed to his feet. "Thank you for meeting with me Headmaster." He turned and walked out the door. Igor climbed to his feet and ripped the door open, but there was no sign of the last Potter. Igor closed the door and sat back down at his desk.

"Well, that answers a few questions." Yes. So many things made sense now. The Dark Lord should not have underestimated the Potters. Igor stormed back to his door. "You!" The student scrambled over.

"Yes Headmaster?"

"Find Viktor and send him to me," Igor ordered.

"Yes Headmaster!" Igor watched the boy scramble off. Yes, he needed to talk with his champion. The young man needed to know that the Hogwarts school motto was something to be taken seriously.

(:ii:)

Sirius shot to his feet as the door to his linen close burst open. "Harry!" He stared at the pile of people on the floor. "And everyone else. Hey Sophie."

"Hello!" the blond announced, bouncing to her feet in more than a few ways.

"Hi," Sirius replied.

"Eyes up sweetie."

"I love your eyes as much as I love other parts of you."

"You flatterer." Sirius tore his eyes away from the woman and towards the pile of teens still on his floor.

"Are you all okay?"

"We're fine," Harry grumbled as he staggered to his feet, dragging as many as he could with him.

"You've got everything settled?" Sirius demanded.

"I do," the young man replied. "I'm competing."

"What," Sirius sputtered, "why?"

"I have to. The goblet was a magical contract."

"A magical contract?" Sirius roared. "Did you know?" Harry shook his head. "An unannounced magical contract? Those stupid bastards! I'm coming back. . ."

". . .and getting kissed by a dementor?" Harry interrupted.

"Uh."

"Sit down Sirius."

"Don't you tell me to. . ." Sirius was interrupted as he was sat down. He shot a glare at the woman with her hand planted on his shoulder. "Sophie."

"Yes?" the blond chirped. Sirius balked at the blonde's grin.

"I'm going to need your help with the challenges," Harry stated. "You're the only one with the time to study the tournament."

"What about. . ."

"Only you," Harry interrupted. Sirius sat back in the seat he had been forced into.

"I see," he said finally. "There's no way you can get out of this?"

"Can you get me out of a magical contract?" Sirius scowled.

"I can not."

"Then I need you to help me survive this."

"Fine," Sirius growled. He glanced at the rather tense group of people around him.  
"So, as your doctor. . ."

"Nope," Harry interrupted.

"As your psychiatrist?" Sirius ventured.

"Still no," Harry replied.

"As your relaxation consultant," Sirius began. He watched as Harry pondered that.

"Okay."

"We all need to relax," Sirius said. "I was planning on saving this for your birthday, but I have the perfect place to relax."

"And that place is?" Harry asked.

"Have you ever heard of Ibiza?"

-End

(:ii:)

-Author's super drunken rambling. Hey friends. So, my last update was October and this was is January. No, I'm not counting this as December. It's been a hell of a few month for me. I think I can explain that gap with one sentence.

So, Uncle Jack had a mammogram. No, this is not the part where you find out that your dear old Uncle Jack is actually your loving Aunt Jackie. I was at work and got whacked in the chest. That hurt and while rubbing it I had a rather disconcerting realization. It went something like this.

-Jack: Fuck!

-Boss: You okay?

-Jack: Yeah, that really hurt.

Long pause.

-Boss: You know, rub it for more than a minute and your playing with it. What, do you feel a lump or something?

-Jack: Uh.

-Boss: Really?

-Jack: Yeah.

-Boss: Shit.

So that led to some interesting interactions at the local cancer center. Mostly all the ladies there wanted me to know that a man showing up for a mammogram wasn't actually weird. It was so not actually weird that everyone had to explain to me that it wasn't weird. This also led to some fun interactions.

-Nurse: If you're comfortable, you can take off your robe.

-Jack: What? *robe is already gone*

-Nurse: Oh. Okay. I can hold your purse. . .oh, sorry. I'm used to dealing with women.

-Jack: No worries. Oh, this is an x-ray right?

-Nurse: Yeah.

-Jack: Can you hold my pocket knife?

-Nurse: Your what?

So a mammogram involves squeezing the breast tissue in a clamp. I can't speak for ladies, but I don't actually have much breast tissue. So, the nice nurse lady kept cranking the vice and I kept sliding out because I'm a little less mountains and a little more plains. I ended up having to hug the damn machine to keep from popping out the other side.

-Nurse: Okay. You can put your robe back on now, if it bothers you.

-Jack: Meh.

-Nurse: What? Oh, right. Never mind.

-Jack promptly begins striking muscle man poses.

-Nurse desperately stares at her computer as she tries not to laugh. 

So, confirmed that Jack doesn't have boob cancer, The true bane of men. . .and women too I guess. I think that most women don't share the utter appreciation for boobs that men do. They may have them,but men are truly enamored with them.

So, in addition to that, I woke up one morning, rolled out of bed and fell on my face. So, yeah, for some reason my hip is fucked. An examination, an X-ray and physical therapy later and no one knows what the fuck is up with that.

One session of physical therapy involved a very pretty young lady humping my leg. It went a little something like this.

-Therapist: Your face is turning red. Does it hurt?

-Jack: Nope.

-Therapist: Remember to breathe.

-Jack: Breathe. Got it. I've been doing that for a while.

So, if you can't tell, I'm adding stories because I feel a little bad for not having any last time.

Anyway, happy whatever the fuck holiday you want to believe in. I'm kind of an outside observer on the whole thing. One thing I will say, I kind of feel like most of the people who say: "Merry Christmas!" kind of come off as assholes. I've had a few people say it and it felt genuine and nice. The rest come off with the whole: "Christmas is under attack and I'm saying Merry Christmas to stick it to the man!"

Look, I'm sorry, but if you're a white American Christian, you are not sticking it to the man by saying Merry Christmas. You are the man. No matter how much you want to play the victim, you are the majority in the world.

Quit bitching.

Yeah, rich coming from me.

So, Ace Combat 7. The A-10 video starts like every other, then they show a ground target. Then everything is exploding forever.

To my A-10 family of military vets, pilots and lovingly civilians: BRT! The A-10 will forever be the Samuel L. Jackson of planes where all sentences end with Muther Fucker! Please don't fuck it up.

Anyway, new year bitches! See you on the other side.

-Your loving Uncle (totally not Aunty) Jack Cynical.


	16. Chapter 16

I own nothing.

Si Vis Pacem, Para Bellum

-Chapter Sixteen:

Harry stared down at the undulating crowd below him in wonder. "Hey Harry." He turned and saw that Sophie had decided to join him. "What's up? Being the dark, brooding avenger up here?"

"What? No. This is awesome." Sophie glanced over the railing down at the dancing crowd in the curling fog and flickering lasers.

"Oh. Yeah, this is pretty cool up here." She leaned against the railing. "Are you going to go down there and dance?"

"I don't know how." Sophie stared at him for a long moment. "What?"

"Men your age are supposed to growl something like: I don't dance," she stated.

"It looks fun," Harry replied, "I just don't know how." Sophie laughed and Harry scowled in annoyance as he sipped his drink. "So, did you come up here to make fun of me?"

"No. I wanted to thank you."

"For what?" Harry asked as he sipped his scotch.

"For being Amalie's friends," Sophie stated. "She's a very shy girl and she has trouble making friends." Harry stared at the woman for a moment before glancing down at the other blond dancing on the floor below them.

"What." Sophie glanced down as well.

"Okay, let me rephrase that. Amalie has trouble meeting people. Once she does, she's able to be herself. She just can't. . .start the conversation."

"Fair enough." Harry sipped his scotch.

"So, you know, thanks for being friends with her. She doesn't actually have any others."

"It's not a problem. I didn't have any friends until I was eleven."

"That's depressing."

"That's life."

"That's your life and that's still depressing." The woman grabbed him by the wrist. "And now, you shall learn to dance!"

"Okay." Harry glanced back at the dance floor. "Just, let's not start with that one. I don't think I have the coordination."

"That's called the worm," Sophie stated as she stared at Luna, "and we'll leave that until the advanced lessons, when I actually learn to do it."

(:ii:)

Minerva sighed as she walked into the Great Hall and saw her most troublesome students sitting at the sparsely populated Gryffindor table. "Mister Potter."

"Good morning Professor."

"It's a tad early for a Saturday, don't you think?" she asked.

"We like to get an early start on the weekend," the table's sole French student stated happily.

"That is true," Ron admitted. Minerva stared at the five students.

"What are you wearing?"

"Clothes!" Luna chirped.

"I can see that," Minerva growled.

"Why are you asking then Professor?" the blond asked. "Are you feeling ill?" Minerva reached a new respect for Filius.

"Why are you wearing that style of clothes?"

"There's nothing wrong with wanting to look nice," Hermione answered.

"Your school's uniform is rather drab," Amalie added. "I mean, black robes and pointy hats? That's such a cliché." Minerva tried to think of a response, but it was rather early in the morning. Instead she just glared at them. Enough pretend time.

"What are you up to?" To their credit, the five students actually glanced at each other.

"At the moment?" Ron asked.

"Yes, at the moment," Minerva growled.

"Just. . .surviving Professor," Harry stated.

"Surviving is overrated if you aren't living," Amalie countered.

"No, its not."

"What are you really surviving if you aren't living?"

"Life," Harry stated, "you are surviving life. What more do you need?"

"What is life if you aren't living?"

"Best leave them to it," Ron commented as the two students began to argue. "They can do this for a long time."

"I see," Minerva grunted. She studied the students, specifically the way they were talking.

"Have you been drinking?"

"Of course, Professor," Harry stated, holding up a hand to stop Amalie. "Staying hydrated is very important to being healthy." Minerva stared at him blankly for a moment before turning and walking to the faculty's table.

"Morning Minerva."

"Morning Sinistra." Minerva sat down and began loading her plate.

"So?"

"So what?" Minerva growled.

"So, what's the reason this time?" Sinistra asked. "Did they discover a muggle club where Death Eaters hang out and decide to investigate?"

"Shut up."

"Maybe the Death Eaters were having a fancy, muggle-themed party and they went undercover."

"Shut up." Minerva downed her tea and poured a new mug as she glared at the table.

"Oh, I remember that look from my days as a student," Sinistra teased. "You used to reserve it for James."

"This is not a look for the James Potters of the world," Minerva growled. "This is a look for the Lilly Evanses of the world." Sinistra leaned back in her seat, the grin dropping from her face.

"You know, I really did forget the kind of trouble she caused for a moment."

"James caused trouble. Lilly caused chaos and mayhem. We just had a hard time proving it."

"Like you are with Harry?"

"Shit."

(:ii:)

"Staying hydrated?" Ron asked.

"I might be getting a little annoyed at her snooping," Harry grumbled. The redhead laughed and picked up a copy of the Daily Prophet that had been left on the table by some other early riser.

"Oh."

"Oh, what?" Harry asked.

"Eggs are little overcooked today, aren't they?" Harry snatched up the paper as Ron tried to casually set it down as far away as possible.

"Hogwarts' Mad Man?" he demanded as he read the headline. His own scarred and bruised visage glared up at him. "What the hell?" Hermione snatched the paper out of his hands.

"Skeeter," she growled as he eyes buzzed through the article. "Wait, found love?"

"What?" Harry snatched the paper and the girl pointed to the line.

"We're dating. At least we are as far as your dear friend Colin Creevey has stated." Harry let out an annoyed sigh.

"I need to talk to people about talking to the press."

"That'd be a good idea," Hermione stated. "Also, you better get me something nice for our anniversary."

"And when would that be?" Harry demanded.

"Such a horrid boyfriend, forgetting your anniversary," Amalie commented. They made it a few seconds before both women began laughing.

"Also, I'm one of the top students on top of being a raving lunatic," Harry grumbled as he perused the column. He glanced up and frowned. "What?"

"May your union be a long and fruitful one," Ron said solemnly. Harry took a deep breath and let it out as a hiss.

"I can't hit Amalie, but I can hit you two."

"You can try," Ron countered. Harry cursed the redhead's extended reach and the witch's boxing lessons. He glanced back down at the paper and felt a tiny worry worming its way into his mind.

"I'm not mad, am I?"

"You're just as sane as I am," Luna answered happily, patting Harry's hand.

"Thanks Luna." Amalie snatched the paper away and set it down.

"Who really cares about some tabloid anyway?" she asked.

"Exactly," Luna stated. "You shouldn't worry about that rag."

"That's actually the primary wizarding news source of the United Kingdom," Ron replied.

"And they employ that woman?" Amalie demanded. "They employ her to write front page stories? Wow." They settled in and began to eat.

"So," Ron began, "the next magical creatures class is coming up. You have anything new planned for Dudders?"

"What's a Dudders?" Amalie asked.

"It's a blast ended screwt," Ron replied.

"What's a blast ended screwt?"

"It's a thing that's going to try to kill Harry, eventually," Ron explained.

"Eventually," Harry grumbled as he rubbed his hands. "It's already made a few attempts."

"At this point, I think that's mostly self-defense," Hermione commented. "You did try to stab it right after you named it."

"Allegedly," Harry countered. "Even Hagrid didn't think that was attempted murders."

"Hagrid also thinks that trying to chew his leg off is a charming sign of affection," Ron pointed out. A strange owl landed on the table and offered its leg to Hermione. She took the parchment and read it.

"What is it?" Harry asked, trying to read the emotions flashing over his friend's face.

"I'm a whore who used my filthy mud blood whiles to seduce you and drive you mad," Hermione stated blankly. She looked up at him. "It's not signed. I've never been called a whore. I don't like it."

"You have any kind of whiles?" Run grunted, turning an interesting shade of red. "So, Skeeter."

"You said she's never been successfully taken to court?" Harry asked.

"She has not," Ron confirmed.

"Any point in trying it again?"

"You are Harry Potter," Ron pointed out.

"I am Harry Potter," Harry admitted. "Despite that, if it didn't work out for us and she disappeared suddenly. . ."

"Yeah," Ron agreed. "So, handle this ourselves?"

"Yup."

"Uh, I hate to say this," Amalie began, "but are you really threatening a woman because she caused Hermione to receive a disgusting, vile letter?"

"Yes," Harry stated simply. He glanced at Ron and Luna and they nodded without hesitation. "We are."

"Okay," Amalie replied peaceably. "I just wanted clarification before things get violent."

"Who said anything about violence?" Hermione cut in suddenly. "We're not savages here. Not everything needs to resort to violence. Sometimes destroying someone without violence is much more satisfying."

"Somehow I now fear even more for that woman," Amalie commented. Four more owls landed on the table bearing messages. "Well, I mean I would if she didn't thoroughly deserve it." She frowned as she noticed Luna watching something flying around the ceiling and her curiosity finally overcame her. "What are you looking at?"

"There's a pretty beetle," Luna explained happily.

"Oh."

(:ii:)

That evening found four of the five slinking into Sal's. "Hey Sal."

"Hey kids," the man grunted as he climbed to his feet. "Finally here for some more training, or just passing through?"

"Training," Harry grumbled.

"Good. You lot have been slacking off," Sal replied as he stretched. "You're going to need all the help you can get." Harry stared at the man.

"What do you know?"

"I don't know anything," Sal said cheerfully. "Ask my three ex-wives if you don't believe me."

"What do you suspect?" Harry demanded, his eyes narrowing. Sal frowned at that and scrubbed a hand over his mohawk.

"Damn, getting predictable in my old age," he grumbled. "You know that the bulk of my work is for dragon handlers, right?"

"Dragon handlers?" Harry squeaked. He did not like where this was going.

"Yup. Anyway, just got off the floo with a friend of mine from a dragon preserve down in Romania. He mentioned that he'd be in the area and we should go out for a drink."

"Romania?" Ron asked.

"Yeah, you got friends there or something?"

"Family," Ron corrected.

"Did your friend mention why he was coming here?" Harry interrupted.

"Something about transporting four nesting female dragons to the area," Sal stated.

"Four dragons and four champions," Hermione commented.

"Dragons?" Harry repeated.

"Nesting dragons," Ron corrected.

"Yup!" Sal chirped. "Weird coincidence, huh?"

"Dragons," Harry repeated.

"Nesting dragons," Sal corrected. "Those are guaranteed to be at least ten times more pissed off than normal dragons." Harry stared at the man blankly. "So, is it in poor taste to show you my line of dragon handler armor?"

"Dragons," Harry repeated.

"Yup."

"Fuck."

-End

(:ii:)

-Authors drunken rambling. So, short transitional chapter. Yep. This is that time in the book where they merrily skip a month or two. Don't expect the next chapter to be sequential, but hopefully it will be timely.

So, hoping that everyone's new year is going better than the last. America's new year is kind of continuing a trend. Take of that what you will. I am annoyed that the election is already going strong. I will be very pissed if those damn election commercials start up two years out from the next election. Seriously, if you can't say anything good about yourself, don't fucking run and keep your mouth shut about the opposition. That goes for whatever sides are doing their thing.

I'm not going to lie, it would be kind of funny if my old MOS got moved into a political term. Can you imagine if new anchors were talking about someone getting pump operator-ed instead of swift boat-ed with a straight face? That would make me laugh so hard if it didn't make me so sad.

To my non-American readers. . .yeah. I don't understand most of that shit either.

Woo. America. Shining beacon of democracy. Fuck.

So massive gun rant to follow. Just stop now if you don't care.

Any who! So, as everyone's favorite. . .or at least, less threatening gun guy, shit's going down. America now has a bump fire stock ban. What's a bump fire stock? It's a two hundred dollar hunk of plastic that makes guns less reliable, less accurate and nobody gave a shit about until some asshole unloaded on a crowd of people in Las Vegas. Not that anyone seems to know if he actually used one in that tragic event. Cause that's how gun owners work now. They don't give a shit about some stupid piece of junk until it's about to be banned. Then a ban is an assault on their constitutional rights. Shit. If the government got mad at Hi-Point tomorrow, those things would be sold out.

What's a Hi-Point? Well, it's an ugly, cheap gun that works that gun owners, people who pride themselves on being super practical, hate because it's an ugly, cheap gun.

Seriously, I've had to listen to people complain about how if other people just save an extra hundred dollars, they could get a real gun to protect themselves and their family.

An extra hundred dollars could feed a family for a month. Starvation is much more likely than assault.

So much for practicality.

Also, when a cheap pistol has problems, it's a piece of junk. When an expensive pistol has problems, it's a teething problem.

That's a sunk cost fallacy if I'm remembering right. . .and not typing phallus because I'm drunk.

Okay, off topic. Anyway, so I've had a few friends come up and smugly ask me about the bump stock ban.

That's right. I have friends who are anti-gun because I'm an adult who doesn't judge people on things like that. Weird, right? Almost like we could all coexist if we weren't being dicks to each other.

Now, the thing that bugs me is that this should violate the fourth amendment.

What? The fourth amendment? Not the second amendment? What madness is this? Stick with me here.

The fourth amendment protects Americans from unlawful search and seizure. So? Well, the ban is going to force Americans to give up their privately owned and paid for property without due compensation.

Their privately owned and paid for property that they obtained legally, without compensation. I'm not bright, but that sounds like seizure to me.

How is the government doing this?

Well, they're basically saying that they made a mistake and declaring something that they said was legal is now illegal. Except that they won't say that they made a mistake.

That scares the shit out of me and it should scare any American, gun owner or not.

This has moved beyond guns, but Americans on both sides aren't seeing it that way because of assholes on both sides.

The government wants to be able to call a do over and decide that things are illegal after the fact and therefore you must give them your private property without any hope of compensation.

I'm not crazy, right? That's scary.

Anyway, Uncle Jack signing out from a rather worried place. Hope this doesn't intrude on your ability to enjoy this story.

Love you.


End file.
